myth as narrative: issues regarding the study of myth in
TRANSCRIPT
南 華 大 學
宗教學研究所
碩士論文
Myth as Narrative:
Issues Regarding the Study of Myth in Buddhist Studies,
With Particular Interest in the Mahāsudassana Sutta of
the Dīgha Nikāya
研 究 生：溫德斯
指導教授：何建興博士
中華民國 103 年 01 月 21 日
i
Abstract
The problem of the definition of myth in analysis must be clearly distinguished
from the problem of interpretation of myth, with which it is often confused. A
definition of myth simply permits and allows an analysis of myth (through the
identification of the object named ‘myth’). However, for many years, works on myth
do not effectively describe how to identify or recognize myth. Instead, authors use
myths as a support or proof to their particular interpretations. The first question of
what is myth (and thus how myths should be identified) is postponed as secondary, as
if the answer would appear only after the particular interpretation has been confirmed.
Here is where the relevance of asking again the question of ‘what is myth’ should start
to become clear. Then, our work is concerned with the definitions of myth in myth
analysis, but not with the problem of interpretation of myth. From the beginning it
must be understood that this work does not intend to explain, justify, or unravel any
particular myth, or its meanings, but it is solely preoccupied with the questions of
‘what is myth,’ and thus with ‘how to identify myth. The following content will focus
on presenting the problem of the definition of myth, and thus gives an example as
evidence. In other words, this work will try to prove the problem of the definition of
myth while positing back the question of definition to the center of a discussion on
myth.
Key words: problem of myth, myth, the definition of myth
ii
Index
Abstract…………………………………………………………………..i
Index…………………………………………………………………….ii
Chapter I: Introduction……………….....................................................1
Chapter II: The Problem of a definition of myth………………………15
Chapter III: Myth in Buddhist Studies…………………………………44
Chapter IV: ‘What is myth doing here?’ The problem of myth in the
Mahāsudassana Sutta………………………………………………62
Chapter V: Outline for a new definition of myth……………………….91
Chapter VI: Conclusions………………………………………………134
Abbreviations………………………………………………………….138
Bibliography…………………………………………………………...139
1
Chapter I: Introduction
1.1 Presentation of the problem
The reader holds in his hands yet another work with ‘myth’ on its title. As such,
it may be bound to provoke a certain level of rejection, especially in a type of critical
reader we are aiming it for. But this work follows a rather different path than most
works on myth; we write it somehow starting from that exasperation (let’s call it
academic skepticism), that the word ‘myth’ often generates, especially in the quarters
of a discipline so important for Buddhist studies as Philology. Thus, before we can get
started, some essential clarifications ought to be made.
First of all, this is a work on the problem of defining myth. The need to define
with precision ‘myth’ arises logically in the process of the analysis of myth. To talk
about myth one has first to identify clearly ‘what is myth.’ Our guess is that if a
definition of ‘myth’ presents problems, or if it is not clearly stated, the value of the
analysis remains in doubt.
The problem of the definition of myth in analysis must be clearly distinguished
from the problem of interpretation of myth, with which it is often confused. A
definition of myth simply permits and allows an analysis of myth (through the
identification of the object named ‘myth’). An analysis is thus a first exploration into
2
the details, symbols and configurations of a myth, in other words a first reading into
what the myth ‘says.’
Interpretations, on the other hand, are second readings that go far beyond this
first reading, towards a ‘meaning’ (what the myth is ‘really’ saying ‘now’). As such
interpretations of myth have to do with hermeneutics, and are perhaps away of the
reach of Philology.1
Then, our work is concerned with the definitions of myth in myth analysis, but
not with the problem of interpretation of myth. From the beginning it must be
understood that this work does not intend to explain, justify, or unravel any particular
myth, or its meanings, but it is solely preoccupied with the questions of ‘what is
myth,’ and thus with ‘how to identify myth.’2
But under the weight of so many works on myth, from the widest range of
disciplines, our question already appears as strange, or worst, as unnecessary. For how
could it be that we want to discuss ‘what is myth’ when most scholars are already
preoccupied with other problems related to myth, like interpretations or functions? A
definition of myth is not a necessary step before any analysis and interpretation?
Exactly, this is our main contention: that the question ‘what is myth’ has been
1 See, for example, Paul Ricoeur’s comments about the hermeneutic interpretations of
myth in the Introduction to The Symbolism of Evil. Boston: Beacon Press, 1970. 2 As we will explain later, however, in Chapter V we present a possible model for a
definition of myth and how it could be used in analysis.
3
avoided. Let’s put this in different words. In current academic parlance discussions
about ‘what is myth’ are generally equated with discussions about secondary
phenomena related to myth, like the functions of myth.3 It is thought, for example,
that one can only know what myth is when one is sure about what it does.4
When discourse turns to functions of myth, it already implies a previous capacity
of identification of the object that it chose to call ‘myth.’ Obviously, to talk about the
functions of myth it is required some kind of operable definition of myth.5 Similarly,
in the discourse of interpretations of myth6 a definition must necessarily be present.
Now, we believe there is a very simple problem here that has been overlooked.
Our hypothesis is this: it seems that when one turns to the methodology of theories of
myth, it is possible to notice that, in many cases, either there is no definition clearly
stated or a definition is constructed from a particular method of interpretation.7
Following this argument, as we hope to prove in the course of our work, one can
3 See Kirk, G. S. Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient and Other Cultures.
London: Cambridge University Press, 1975. 4 Function (purpose) and interpretation (meaning) are different categories, but are
often considered as inter-dependant. Thus, it is thought that the purpose of a particular
myth is determined by its meaning, and thus its interpretation. See Ricoeur and Kirk
above. Psychological theories of myth like that of C. G. Jung start from similar
assumptions. See Ellwood, Robert. The Politics of Myth: A Study of C. G. Jung,
Mircea Eliade, and Joseph Campbell. New York: State University of New York Press.
1999. 5 That is, a definition that can recognize and distinguish myth as a unit with particular
properties or characteristics. 6 Interpretation is perhaps the central topic today for any theory of myth. We evaluate
this state of affairs in a negative way. One of our hypothesis is that this obsession for
interpretations of myth has naturally conduced to a situation where definitions are
seen as ‘secondary,’ or dependant on interpretations. 7 For our purposes, a method of interpretation involves a theoretical set of concepts.
4
observe how works on myth do not effectively describe how to identify or recognize
myth. Instead, authors use myths as a support or proof to their particular
interpretations. The first question of what is myth (and thus how myths should be
identified) is postponed as secondary, as if the answer would appear only after the
particular interpretation has been confirmed. Here is where the relevance of asking
again the question of ‘what is myth’ should start to become clear.
We will try to prove this while positing back the question of definition to the
center of a discussion on myth.
1.2 Myth in a particular religious tradition: Buddhism
Second, if our previous hypothesis is correct then it follows that a comparative
analysis of myth is, at this point, not a good idea. If we don’t know how to properly
identify myth in particular traditions, comparisons between them necessarily add to
the difficulties.
While many times theories of myth are developed in a broad comparative way,
this inquiry will be necessarily centered on one, and only one particular religion:
Buddhism.
However that won’t be enough. Buddhism is a multi-branched tradition. Before
talking about Buddhist myth in general, a consensus about it must be achieved first in
5
the entire Buddhist tradition.
Thus, merely talking about Buddhist myth won’t be specific enough. Again, we
are aiming for identification of myth, and thus we have to concentrate on a particular
historical and textual form of the religion. Thus, we will be mainly concentrating on
what is called Theravada Buddhism. This could be seen as shorthanded but we deem
it as necessary.
We also chose to concentrate on Theravada Buddhism because this tradition is
often singled-out as the closest to an early form of Buddhism, and as such as the most
non-mythical form of traditional Buddhism. It should be easier then, on principle, to
isolate myth in it. We also hope that ideological prejudices against myth can present
themselves more clearly in it.
1.3 Self-criticism of our discipline
This work, then, should be understood in the context of a relatively recent
self-critical tendency in Buddhist studies. As such, it is rooted on some of the
conclusions drawn by the previous work of authors such as Philip C. Almond8 and
Gregory Schopen.9
8 Philip C Almond, The British Discovery of Buddhism. New York: Cambridge
University Press, 1988. 9 Schopen, Gregory. Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected papers on the
Archeology, Epigraphy, and Texts of Monastic Buddhism in India. United States of
America: University of Hawai’i Press, 1997.
6
Almond, in his book The British Discovery of Buddhism, traces the development
and inclinations of the discipline of Buddhist studies to the context of Colonialism
and to a particular set of beliefs and ideas corresponding to it, which he identifies as
‘Protestant.’ This ideology can best be described as “a particular European
interpretation of the Buddhist tradition, shaped by the rationalistic and anti-ritualistic
ethos.”10
In other words, it posses an inherent inclination to exclude from its inquiry,
the irrational, and more specifically, phenomena related to myth and ritual practice.
This Protestant ideology naturally influenced the nascent discipline of Buddhist
studies in its research methods, which as a consequence became almost exclusively
textual-oriented. (Almond 37) Following the tradition of protestant reformers ‘the
locus of true religion’11
was to be found in scripture alone.
This was naturally followed by an idealization through text, that created an
‘image of decay, decadence, and degeneration’ for contemporary Eastern Buddhism,
at the same time that it created and constructed an ideal Buddhism of the past.
(Almond 40)
From the work of Almond we can presume that one of the key concepts
operating for this idealization was indeed myth. It is probably through the control of
10
See Trainor, Kevin. Relics, ritual, and representation in Buddhism:
Rematerializing the Sri Lankan Theravada tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2007) p. 11. 11
Schopen, p. 13.
7
the concept of myth, or rather, through the negative valuation of myth, that a pure and
idealized Buddhism could be created and maintained in time. It is through a decidedly
anti-mythical reading of texts that its idealization could be defended. And it is also
through the criticism of myth that a factual Eastern Buddhism could be deprecated.
That was the picture of the 19th
Century drawn by Almond (mainly on Theravada
Buddhism). How much of this historical picture remains an issue in the 21st Century?
Is the concept of myth still today somehow under the influence of that Protestant
ideology? While Almond’s study does not go beyond the 19th
century, Schopen, in his
anthology of articles Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks,12
suggests, convincingly in
my opinion, how much this Protestant ideology, in the form of textual centrism, is still
present today in the history-making of the discipline of Buddhist studies.
But Schopen is only concerned with the centrality of texts (against archeology)
in relation to a historical inquiry. He is not concerned with myth. It is interesting to
note here, nevertheless, that myth could perhaps have something to do with the fact of
textual centrism described by him.
One of Schopen repeated complains is how the finds of archeology have been
often softened, silenced, or ignored by scholars of Buddhist studies, especially when
12
Specially in his articles “Archeology and Protestant Presuppositions in the Study of
Indian Buddhism” and “Two Problems in the History of Indian Buddhism: The
Layman/Monk Distinction and the Doctrines of the Transference of Merit.”
8
the data contradict the texts.13
Considering that a great part of his articles in the
anthology Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks centers on the phenomena of the stupa
cult, and as such it is connected to beliefs about death and the cult of the dead, it
sounds reasonable to assume that the negative valuation of myth could have
something to do with this.14
We should regard then the concept of myth as important, since it is often closely
related to many elements that have largely remained marginal and peripheral in
Buddhist studies. In addition, a proper understanding of myth may help us understand
better a non-idealized historical Buddhist tradition.
1.4 Main difficulties
Our intention is, then, to carefully and tentatively explore some issues regarding
the study of myth in Buddhist studies, with particular attention of the Theravada
tradition. However, we must recognize, from the very start, some serious difficulties
inherent in such an enterprise.
Theories of myth are highly problematic and polemic, even in the older and
broader field of Religious studies: the theoretical material is enormous, and many
13
Schopen, p. 2. 14
Consider for example the implicit importance of myth in Schopen’s article “Burial
Ad Sanctos and the Physical Presence of the Buddha in Early Indian Buddhism,” also
from the same collection.
9
times confusing and even contradictory.
Probably the two most important difficulties that we will be facing are: first, the
fact that there is no theory of myth developed from Buddhist studies; that is, no theory
of myth has been specially made for the study of Buddhism. And second, the fact that
there are few works dealing with Buddhist myth properly.
Thus, our project necessarily cannot aspire to be more than propaedeutic. With
that in mind, we will concentrate on how the problem of a definition of myth appears
in Buddhist studies of the Theravada tradition. Now, considering the possibility of the
so called Protestant ideology in the discipline, we will be paying special attention to
the negative valuation of myth, as a result of it.
Our hypothesis will be that, whenever a definition of myth manifests a negative
valuation of myth (whenever it is affected ideologically in this way); the definition in
question will have theoretical problems, especially in relation to its ability to
distinguish myth-narratives from non-myth narratives (the object of study).
At the same time we will try to show how this problem is connected to general
limitations of the methods of Buddhist studies, due to Philology’s natural reticence
towards theory.15
Thus, of all the disciplines dealing with religion, Buddhist studies
seems to have remained farthest isolated from the problem of the concept of myth,
15
Pollock, Sheldon. Future Philology? The Fate of a Soft Science in a Hard World.
Critical Inquiry 35 (Summer 2009) p. 931-961.
10
thanks also to its perceived non-theism.16
Yet, because of this, it has maintained itself
dependant of other disciplines for the study of myth, and also not up to date with
advancements in its study.
Thus, we are also interested in assessing how much, due to its importance in
Buddhist studies, the traditional and conservative position of Philology against theory
in general can conflict or harmonize with the necessity of a theory of myth. We start
from the assumption that myth is narrative, and thus as an object of study it is perhaps
more compatible to Literary theory than to Philology. Likewise, we expect to observe
a natural tension between the limits of Philology and the theoretical requirements of
Buddhist studies for understanding myth.
Our work is not, however, a direct criticism of Philology. However, it obviously
stands in the hope that a criticism of its use of the concept of myth can help open
Philology to other theories, for its own benefit.
1.5 Structure of the work
Our work will be divided into four main parts. As we said before, Buddhist
16
For the theoretical problems of considering Buddhism as a religion see the
comments of Melford E. Spiro, in “Religion: Problems of Definition and
Explanation.” Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion. Ed. Michael
Banton. London: Tavistock Publications Limited, 1969. 85-126. For a thorough
description of the non-theistic aspects of Buddhism, see Helmuth v. Glasenapp in
Buddhism –A Non-Theistic Religion. Trans. Irmgard Schloegl. London: Geoge Allen
and Unwin Ltd., 1970.
11
works on myth are few, and there are no works on theories of myth specifically from
Buddhist studies. Thus, we have been forced to advance from the general to the
particular.
In Chapter II we will offer a brief review of the general landscape regarding
theories of myth, with special attention to the issues of definition and negative
valuation of myth. There we will explore with detail the problem in definitions of
myths.
We will concentrate on the definitions of myth in the theories of Lévi-Strauss,
Eliade, and Ricoeur, as examples. We will try to show through a brief analysis of them
an important deficiency in relation to their definitions of myth.
In Chapter III we will be reviewing some works relevant for understanding the
position of myth in Buddhist studies, giving some remarks regarding the use and
value normally given to myth in the discipline. We will be paying special attention to
connecting the Protestant ideology working behind Buddhist studies with what we
observed in the first part in relation to the problems of definitions of myth.
In Chapter IV we will give attention to one of the most interesting works on
myth in Buddhist studies in recent years, the article “Mythology as Meditation: From
the Mahāsudassana Sutta to the Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra,” by Rupert Gethin.
We will be presenting a criticism of the methods used in the article, again mainly
12
based on its definition of the concept of myth and its application. As expected, we will
be also paying special attention to the problem of the valuation of myth in it, as well
as to other matters relevant for our topic.
The purpose there will be to observe how, in a concrete case, a definition of myth
operates in the analysis of Buddhist scriptures. To enrich our commentary, we will be
contrasting Gethin’s arguments with Richard Gombrich’s ideas. Gombrich is another
important author working on myth-narratives, but with a different answer to the
problem of myth.
Yet, the fact that both authors are perhaps part of a more conservative side of
Philology should be particularly interesting for what we noted above. We expect to
show how, contrary to what is often affirmed, even Philology uses theoretical
concepts taken from other disciplines, and thus require a harder critical stance towards
theoretical concepts and tools, which today it does not have.
Up to Chapter IV, then, our intention is to show the coherence and extension of
the problem of a definition of myth, between its general study and that found
specifically in Buddhist studies of the Theravada tradition.
We believe that a criticism of the concept of myth is a necessary step before the
discipline of Buddhist studies can theoretically provide a definition based on its own
observations of the problem in Buddhist scriptures.
13
In Chapter V we will use what we have learned in the previous chapters to try to
construct an outline for a definition of myth. Our intention is not to give a fully
operable ‘new’ definition of myth, but merely to show a theoretical model of a
definition, with which the avoidance of problems described in our work is possible.
Thus we will be using theoretical tools from anthropology (Clifford Geertz) and
from literary analysis (Northrop Frye), to provide a theoretical example of how to
build a simple model for defining myth that can help and complement the philological
tools of Buddhist studies. We will be modifying Frye’s model for narrative analysis of
literary fiction for the identification of myth narratives.
Lastly, we will use this model of a definition of myth to analyze the
Mahāsudassana Sutta one more time, in a bid to confirm whether the ideas behind its
construction are practical. We hope we will get some interesting results by doing so.
All in all, the fifth chapter could perhaps appear as the most unsatisfactory, due
to its extravagant and eclectic nature, but we feel the need to show in a practicable
way how a definition of myth could actually be constructed following our criticism,
and at the same time how theoretical tools for narrative analysis coming from outside
of Philology can be incorporated to the study of Buddhist scriptures, without serious
difficulties.
14
We agree with some scholars17
of Buddhist studies who have began to question
the limits imposed by overemphasizing Philology as unique way of approaching
Buddhist texts, and in that sense, our work is oriented towards a more open future
discipline, where narrative will have the central place it deserves.
17
See Gomez, Luis O. “On Reading Literature Literally: Concrete Imagery before
Doctrine.” Published in Special International Symposium on Pure Land Buddhism.
5-30, and McClintock, Sara L. “Compassionate Trickster: The Buddha as a Literary
Character in the Narratives of Early Indian Buddhism.” Journal of the American
Academy of Religion. Vol. 79.1 (2011): 90-112.
15
Chapter II: The problem of a definition of myth
2.1 The priority of the problem of ‘what is myth.’
While it would be perhaps exaggerated to suggest that nothing has been
advanced for the study of myth since Lévi-Strauss published “The Structural Study of
Myth,”18
it has to be recognized that his complain about the chaotic situation in what
he calls ‘field of mythology’19
remains true today. The study of myth is still
considered a problematic, contested, and polemic sub/inter-field,20
where, broadly
speaking, consensus is hard to find.
It is interesting to note that what Lévi-Strauss describes as ‘studies in the field of
mythology’ roughly correspond for him to theories of interpretations of myth. Thus,
his complain protests the fact of the multiplicity of interpretations. Nowhere does
Lévi-Strauss, in his seminal article “The Structural Study of Myth,” suggests that
problems in myth interpretation could be traced back to faults in definitions of myth.
Indeed, it could be argued, without a spirit of polemic, that in “The Structural
18
Lévi-Strauss, Claude. “The Structural Study of Myth.” Myth: A Symposium. Spec.
issue of The Journal of American Folklore. Vol. 68 (1955): 428-444. 19
“Of all the chapters of religious anthropology, none has tarried to the same extent
as studies in the field of mythology. From a theoretical point of view the situation
remains (…) chaotic. Myths are still widely interpreted in conflicting ways: as
collective dreams, as the outcome of a kind of esthetic play, or as the basis of ritual.”
(Lévi-Strauss 207) 20
Often confusingly crossing over several disciplines.
16
Study of Myth,” Lévi-Strauss does not give a definition of myth, and instead replaces
it with an analysis of the structure of it.
In a previous article,21
Lévi-Strauss had emphatically asserted that “myth form
takes precedence over the content of the narrative.” It has been argued before,22
however, that for Lévi-Strauss ‘structure’ indeed amounts to ‘content.’23
His listing of
narrative contents in columns had the obvious final purpose of establishing a new
form of relational interpretation. It follows then, that in his mind, this listing of
contents somehow replaces the need for a definition of myth.
But the fact that his listing is made of units of narrative contents (‘Cadmos kills
the dragon,’ ‘Oedipus kills his father Laios’), contradicts his discussion of myth in
terms of comparison with Saussure’s concepts of langue and parole, or with the
metaphor of music. The value of his units is given by their contents, and not by their
form.
An analysis of the structure of myth already presumes the knowledge of the
observed object’s limits. But according to Lévi-Strauss what are those? Or, in other
words, how or on what principles an observer should distinguish myth from that
21
Lévi-Strauss, Claude. “The Effectiveness of Symbol.” Structural Anthropology.
United States of America: Basic Books, 1963. 22
Additionally, Lévi-Strauss study of myth has been severely criticized in part due to
his wrong use of the concept of structure, which in most cases merely denotes
contents (see Righter, William. Myth and Literature. London: Routledge & Kegan
Paul Ltd, 1975). 23
Righter, p.19.
17
which is not myth? Where did he get his basic units of form/content?
When Lévi-Strauss takes the content of certain myths for analysis he has already
decided that they are myth. He does not share this method of distinction or
identification with the reader.
More seriously, he is not even defining them in relation to his so called structure,
or in relation to any form of interpretation24
. He has not even used the idea of
structure to choose myth from other narratives, and in fact, since his concept of
structure can be better understood as content, his method of analysis could be applied
to any type of narrative with similar results!25
In the end he has not provided an effective way to chose myth, and thus we have
not received an answer for the question of what is myth. Besides the hypothetical
possibility of finding a general law of the structure of myth,26
which remains open,
we are left empty handed.
Lévi-Strauss also suggests that his structural analysis is, in the end, a proper
method for understanding myth. However, it is our contention here, that an
interpretation cannot be accepted as a definition, and neither can it occupy its place in
24
Like Mircea Eliade, as wee will show later. 25
Lévi-Strauss did not start his work from an observation and comparison of
narratives. A proper structural analysis of myth, if such a thing is possible, would have
required first an structural identification of myth. For example, an extensive analysis
of the structure of narrative, then a selection of those narratives that, diverging
similarly in structure, could be identified as myth. Only then a description would have
made sense. 26
Expressed in his idiosyncratic formula [Fx(a): Fy(b) 〜 Fx(b):Fa-1(y)].
18
a theory of myth. To detail the structure of an object somehow already identified as
myth is not the same as defining myth by its structure. This is an important point.
But necessarily, each time an interpretation is tried, a definition must be assumed.
Furthermore, it is pertinent to ask whether it is even possible to provide interpretations
without knowing ‘what exactly is a myth.’ When we see the structural method of
Lévi-Strauss, we don’t see this definition. Logically there must be one that has made
him choose between some units and not others, between some narrative texts and not
others. It is as if Lévi-Strauss was working under such strong convictions of knowing
‘what is myth’ that he simply did not need to define his object of study. This is our
first important clue.
The initial problem in the theory of myths should be first not how to interpret
myth, but how to define and how to identify myth, that is, how to distinguish the object
or material that we chose to call myth. In the center of any theory of myth should be
the definition of myth. That is what we understood by what is myth; a definition that
clearly casts the observed object in a set or paradigm of theoretical delimitations.
2.2 The failure of theories of myth
In the encounter of theories of ‘myth,’ one gets the impression of the absolute
elusive nature of the concept; ‘myth’ appears to be that kind of word that, despite its
19
extensive use, it always manages to escape from clear theoretical boundaries.
Besides the share number of different theories of myth available there may be
several other reasons for this problem. For example, we have the dispersion of its
study across disciplines, each discipline in its turn harboring multiple, sometimes
conflicting theories of myth.27
It is then not surprising that the concept is confusing,
difficult to track, and not precise.
Naturally, theories of myth are closely dependant on the context and purpose that
motivated its conceptual origin. Thus, “theories of myth are theories of some much
larger domain, with myth a mere subset.” (Segal 2) As such, “there are no theories of
myth itself, for there is no discipline of myth in itself. There is no study of myth as
myth.” (Segal 2)
In other words, the study of myth has never configured a study in itself. This fact
is important, and should be considered more thoroughly. We could put this in the
following way: myth is not the main object of any discipline. This means, naturally,
that myth is always studied in relation to something else (be it society, literature,
culture, mind, art, religion, etc.), constituting a secondary object. In other words, to be
qualified and quantified it is always dependent of something different from itself.
Thus, myth is like a shadow that only becomes visible when something else is
27
See Robert A. Segal in Myth: A Very Short Introduction. New York: Oxford
University Press, 2004.
20
illuminated. This fact, paradoxically, could be yet another of the causes of the
concept’s theoretical obscurity and a reason for the multiplicity of its definitions.
Now, the considerable amount of interpretations in addition to the lack of
specialized theories for the study of myth in-itself, almost inevitably raises the
following suspicion: does myth really exist? Does myth really correspond to a
concrete object or phenomenon? Or is it whatever we want it to be? Is it, finally, a
useful category? As one famous scholar of myth puts it, “it is essential to have a clear
idea of what myths are and what myths are not, and, so far as possible, of the ways in
which they are likely to operate.”28
A detailed review of the definitions of myth is beyond the scope of this
short-sized work. But we can do without it thanks to the fact that there are already an
important number of book-length discussions dealing with the most influential ones.29
Most of these works start with an entire chapter dedicated at listing the varieties of
theories of myths.30
28
Kirk: Introduction, pg 2. 29
For some, see in our bibliography Ken Dowden in The Uses of Greek Mythology,
William Righter in Myth and Literature, Milton Scarbough in Myth and Modernity:
Postcritical Reflections, and Robert A. Segal in Myth: A Very Short Introduction. For
examples of definitions see G. S. Kirk in Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient
and Other Cultures, or for the strange lack of it see Claude Lévi-Strauss in “The
Structural Study of Myth.” in The Journal of American Folklore. Vol. 68: 428-444.
For an extensive anthology of theories, definitions, and methods of interpretation, see
the anthology Sacred Narratives: Readings in The Theory of Myth, by Alan Dundes.
This last one in particular is an excellent example of the multiplicity in the study of
myth in the discipline of Religious studies, with several short articles discussing old
definitions and presenting new ones. 30
Righter, p. 9: “Most definitions [of myth] exist at a very high level of generality,
21
Due to the sheer size of the material, authors on myth commonly complement
their surveys of theories of myth with some kind of categorizing schema. William
Righter31
, for example, complements his general account with some of the more
influential modern theories of myth, which he groups in four broad categories:
functionalist, psychological, religious, and those of symbolic form.
According to him, the functionalist theories of myth “describe myth in terms of
its operation within a social structure, often in connection with a ritual which marks a
stage in the development or progress of the individual through his life cycle.” (Righter
15) Bronisław Malinowski is given as an example of this category.
Psychological theories of myth trace its origins to the hidden constitution of the
mind, thus establishing a causative link between the mind and myth. Righter lists
under this category Sigmund Freud and Carl G. Jung, and surprisingly the work of
and an admission of the multiple nature of the subject is built into them. (…) ‘Myth is
narrative, irrational… and comes to mean any anonymously composed story telling of
origins and destinies, the explanation a society offers its young of why the world is
and why we do as we do, its pedagogic images of the nature and destiny of man’
(Warren and Wellek). Or, ‘Myth is to be defined as a complex of stories – some no
doubt fact, and some fantasy – which, for various reasons, human beings regard as
demonstrations of the inner meaning of the universe of human life’ (Alan Watts).
Others assign such a multiplicity of causes as to be almost completely meaningless:
‘Myth is a universal cultural phenomenon originating in a plurality of motives and
involving all mental faculties’ (David Bidney). Still others wish to establish the
character of myth as an imaginative language in its own right: ‘An autonomous form
of the human spirit, with its own structure, function, expression … with unity of
feeling’ (Cassirer). Or, ‘A myth … is a schema of the imagination which, (…) is
capable of effectively organizing our way of viewing portions of the external world in
accord with its distinctions’ (Joseph Margolis).” 31
Righter, William. Myth and Literature. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd,
1975.
22
Claude Lévi-Strauss.
For Righter, of all the groups, religious theories of myth are the most ambiguous
as well as the less objective. In them, myth is presented as having syncretistic and
vague metaphysical or religious foundations. Here he places authors like Joseph
Campbell, Mircea Eliade, and Heinrich Zimmer.
Finally, theories of symbolic form describe myth as a ‘self contained and self
referential symbolic language.’ As a form of symbolic language myth is expression of
feelings (experience), thus it is understood in a much broader sense, almost as a
fiction. Cassirer is the example here.
The building of broad categories for the multiplicity of myth is an ingenious way
of trying to make order of an academic zone that has none. But then again, Righter is
only one of several authors struggling to give some order by following a similar
pattern. Segal, for example, affirms that each modern theory of myth starts from at
least one of three different questions, which can be described as questions of origin,
function, and subject matter.
By origin, Segal means ‘why and how a myth arises.’ By function, ‘why and how
myth persists,’ by subject matter, the referent of myth. Segal affirms that the answer to
the first two questions is often a need, which myth fulfills. The condition for myth
existence in time is this fulfillment, thus myth lasts as long as it fulfills this need.
23
What this need is, according to Segal, varies from theory to theory. (Segal 2)
Notice first, however, how none of these broad categories as explained by
Righter or Segal actually deal with myth in-itself. Second, all these groups or
categories of inquiry clearly correspond to different disciplinary interests and thus
methods of approaching issues related with ‘myth,’ like history, psychology –origin,
sociology, anthropology –function, or religious studies and structuralism –subject
matter (Righter’s religious and symbolic form), etc. Indeed, it could be argued that
theories of myth naturally ought to diverge because they simply start from different
phenomena related to myth, but never from myth itself: they simply don’t share the
object of study.
At the same time, it should be evident how definitions of myth are always tied by
necessity to particular disciplinary interpretations of myth, since each discipline has
already its own object(s) of study. Then, these theories want to say something about
what myth means in relation to that other object. A hypothesis could follow from this:
definitions of myth are backwardly constructed to accommodate prior assumptions of
what myths must mean (interpretation).
2.3 The construction of definitions of myth from interpretations
This is perhaps even more evident in theories inclined to phenomenology, like
24
Mircea Eliade’s.32
In Eliade’s definition, for example, myth narrates a sacred
history,33
which likewise is defined by the terms of its content: it is a narrative
‘telling’ or ‘description’ of a creation-event of a reality in a special time (a time out of
history), by supernatural beings. This he describes as an irruption of the sacred into
the world of man.
Eliade’s definition of myth is subsumed to a universalistic view of religion,34
and to a way of understanding religion through a dichotomous relation
(sacred/profane, supernatural/natural, primordial time/historic time, etc.).
Now, there is nothing wrong here with the definition itself. Contrary to
Lévi-Strauss, Eliade does provide a definition which, at least in theory, intends to
define myth. The problem, however, is that Eliade’s definition is reductionist: it forces
a distinction of myth only in terms of the concepts of his interpretation. Thus, it seems
that his theory has started not from the observation of narratives, but from a previous
selection, based on his own interpretation. It naturally leaves then an immense group
32
Eliade, Mircea. Myth and Reality. Trans. Willard R. Trask. Illinois: Waveland Press
Inc., 1998. 33
Eliade 1998, p. 7: “(…) myth narrates a sacred history; it relates an event that took
place in primordial Time, the fabled time of the ‘beginnings. In other words myth tells
how, through the deeds of Supernatural Beings, a reality came into existence, be it the
whole of reality, the Cosmos, or only a fragment of reality—an island, a species of
plant, a particular kind of human behavior, an institution. Myth then is always an
account of a ‘creation’; it relates how something was produced, began to be. Myth
tells only of that which really happened, which manifested itself completely. (…) In
short, myths describe the various and sometimes dramatic breakthroughs of the sacred
(or the ‘supernatural’) into the World.” 34
Ellwood, Robert. The Politics of Myth: A Study of C. G. Jung, Mircea Eliade, and
Joseph Campbell. New York: State University of New York Press. 1999.
25
of narratives arbitrarily out of the concept of myth.
This definition of myth not only depends of Eliade’s particular concepts of the
sacred, the profane, and of time, but it also restricts myth rather subjectively to those
narratives that pertain to creation or origin, themselves concepts broad and rather
ambiguous. Then, irrespective of the evaluation of such a definition, we are forced to
exclude a great number of narratives by a mere personal inclination posing as a real
qualitative method of distinction.
In this way, the definition of myth is reduced to an interpretative theory. The
‘theory’ does not show us clearly how to recognize what is myth from what is not
without an interpretation operating, forcing us also to accept the interpretation in
question.
Let’s put this in different terms. If we were to ask ‘where are we to find myth’ or
‘how are we to identify it,’ the following answer would be forced on us -only in those
texts that presumably support the interpretation.
It might be argued, of course, that any concept inevitably has its origin in a
similar accident: definitions are up to a certain extent always arbitrary and subjective,
and depend on other concepts. But here the problem seems to be that a definition
seems to have been backwardly constructed to accommodate, validate, and justify a
particular method of interpretation, a particular understanding of what myth ought to
26
mean. In other words, the interpretation’s concepts are responsible for determining,
what is myth.35
It follows that the center of such an interpretation lays on the concepts which at
the same time are used to delimit the object ‘myth’ (see 3 on Table 1). Out of this
interpretative context, away from its concepts, that which has been identified as myth
(see 4 on table 1) disappears completely. Thus the capacity of explanation of such a
definition is problematic, since it depends on the acceptance of a very specific type of
interpretation. And is not applicable to phenomena not corresponding to the
interpretation, and cannot say anything of myth in general.
This method of constructing definitions from interpretations is not unique of
Mircea Eliade. We have already mentioned how Lévi-Strauss replaces a definition by
an analysis of ‘structure’ (his method of interpretation), falling in a similar kind of
pitfall. But our intention here is not to reject the validity of any interpretation, but to
call into question the process of constructing definitions from interpretations. Myth, in
this way, is not an observed36
but rather a constructed object, built from the
requirements of a previously designed interpretation.
35
We provide 2 diagrams. In Table 1 we have tried to visually describe the process of
the construction of a theory of myth from a previous definition, while in Table 2 we
describe how the process should be, ideally. 36
Of course every observation implies a construction, but here the important thing is
whether this construction is based on phenomena observed, or merely on an
interpretative theory.
27
The fact that interpretations have priority over definitions seems to be a
particular problem of myth theories. However any interpretation requires a previous
definition. An interpretation, if not on a precise definition, must at least rest on
a-priori assumptions about what that object is, otherwise the object interpreted would
be non-identifiable.
Thus, if we assume that definitions of myth like Eliade’s and Lévi-Strauss’ were
backwardly constructed, their interpretations must have started from a previous
definition or at the very least from assumptions working as such, based on some form
of common sense understanding of what is myth (1 in Table 1).37
This previous
definition actually gives the interpretation (2 in Table 1) a provisory description of
what should be myth (4 in Table 1), which is developed only after the concepts of
interpretation (3 in Table 1). Thus the new definition of myth (5 in Table 1) is the last
stage in this process, and as a consequence it lacks almost any relevance for the theory
itself, since it has no ability to really distinguish what is myth: myth is a preselected
object that does not depend of the new definition.
In such a process of construction what we consider to be the normal procedures
are overridden. Normally, phenomena are observed (in this case narratives), (see 1 in
Table 2) and from these observations comes a hypothesis which results in a definition
37
This would justify perhaps Lévi-Strauss’ implicit impression that a definition of
myth was somehow unnecessary in his work on myth analysis.
28
(2 in Table 2). This definition selects, delimits, and categorizes the phenomena. Thus,
at the same time that this definition is raised, the object appears (also 2 in Table 2).
Only then an interpretation and its concepts are produced, based in the observation of
the object, to explain what the definition has proposed.
Table 1: Diagram of the Construction of a Theory of Myth from a Previous
Definition (SDM)
The proof of this is logical. It lays on the fact that any interpretation needs first to
29
identify its object. But the problem is how to identify an object without a definition.
Thus it follows that, since the final definitions rest on a particular interpretation, a
previous definition or assumptions of what is myth must have already been in place
before the origin of the interpretation.
Table 2: Diagram of the Ideal Construction of a Theory of Myth
How can this be proved? Thanks to the fact that we know myths are found in
narratives (or at least are embedded in texts), we can answer for now with a counter
30
question: how and when where the narrative/texts in any particular theory of myth
chosen? If there is no answer as to the how, we have a possible partial proof. If they
where selected exclusively based on principles related to the interpretation we have
again possible partial proof. In the case of Mircea Eliade, for example, both are true:
there is no answer as to how these and not other narratives were chosen, and at the
same time the contents of the myths that Eliade describe are exclusively connected to
his concepts of interpretation.
2.4 True and false narratives
We should try now to reconstruct such a hypothetical previous definition by
following elements that are shared by most ‘interpretative definitions’ of myth.
There is, as we have seen, at least one consensual element in theories of myth:
myth is narrative.38
But, while modern definitions universally recognize myth as
narrative, they seldom explain the significance of this. Neither is the actual relation
between myth and narrative explored. Thus, in relation to definitions of myth,
narrative merely refers to the actual place where myths are supposedly located: texts.
In this work, by narrative it will be understood any text (or discourse) that
presents a sequence of related events, actions, characters, images, concepts, symbols,
38
See Righter, pg.10.
31
or ideas, be it oral or written.39
It is due to the relation between these elements that a
narrative can be considered a system.40
The narrative aspect of myth seem to drift in definitions from the simple and
commonsensical ‘narrative of gods,’ to the broader ‘narrative of beginnings,’ to the
almost abstract ‘foundational narrative.’ If myth is to be something, it must be some
form of narrative.
But with the concept of narrative comes a fragile illusion of simplicity, for we
still don’t know ‘what is myth’. If myth is a narrative, what type of narrative it is? Or,
in other words, a myth is narrative of what? Evidently the problem is to determine
exactly what form of narrative corresponds to myth. Even if by narrative we
understand straightforwardly a story, and thus we take myth as a story of gods, the
fancy of simplicity disappears quite rapidly.
In a sense, we just keep postponing an answer. If, following commonsense, we
reply with confidence ‘a narrative of gods,’ we now have to answer what does our
category of ‘god’ entails to. For example, a god is only that which is called a god or is
also that which acts as a god or seems ‘to us’ like a god?
39
We are purposely avoiding here a definition of narrative as a mere story. Thus we
include explanations or even lists of concepts and ideas as forms of narrative. 40
We follow here the concept of system developed by Clifford Geertz. We will return
to this point in our 5th chapter. See Geertz, Clifford, “Religion as a Cultural System.”
Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion. Ed. Michael Banton. London:
Tavistock Publications Limited, 1969. 1-46. And in The Interpretation of Cultures.
New York: Basic Books, 1973.
32
Furthermore, what are we to do with narratives of semi-divine beings? And what
should we do of the narratives directly relevant for understanding doctrines or laws,
but where the main character of the religion (be him god, semi-divine human, founder
figure, etc.) is not even a protagonist, or worst, he simply does not bother to appear?
And what are we to do of all the other narratives relating to no god, that we still
intuitively and following commonsense consider myths?
The concept of narrative by itself, then, is not enough for constituting an
assumed previous definition of myth. A second element, that should specify what type
of narrative is myth, is required for an operable definition. And, considering the fact
that the concept of narrative is consensual, this second element must also be generally
accepted.
Bruce Lincoln41
, in the preface to his work Theorizing Myth: Narrative, Ideology,
and Scholarship give us an important clue when, referring to the problem of the
concept of myth, affirms that:
(…) whenever someone calls something a ‘myth,’
powerful-and highly consequential-assertions are being
made about its relative level of validity and authority
41
Lincoln, Bruce. Theorizing Myth: Narrative, Ideology, and Scholarship. Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1999.
33
vis-a-vis other sorts of discourse. Such assertions,
moreover, can be strongly positive (e.g., myth =
"primordial truth" or "sacred story"), strongly negative
(myth = "lie'' or "obsolete worldview"), or something in
between (as in the mildly indulgent view that myth =
"pleasant diversion," "poetic fancy," or "story for
children"). (Lincoln ix)
According to Lincoln, a narrative is thus positioned in relation to other forms of
narratives by its value of trueness or falseness, in other words, by the value of truth
(or lie) that it seems to posses. Is this idea of truth in myth that we now want to
follow.
2.5 ‘Truth Valuation’ in a Standard Definition of Myth (SDM)
“In the language current during the nineteenth century,” says Mircea Eliade in
Myths, Dreams, and Mysteries, “a ‘myth’ meant anything that was opposed to
‘reality.’” This, he concluded, was yet another “cliché of Christian origin and
structure” (Myths, Dreams, and Mysteries 23). But scholars of the twentieth century,
he affirms, instead of treating myth as ‘fable,’ ‘invention,’ or ‘fiction,’ “have accepted
34
it as it was understood in the archaic societies, where, on the contrary, ‘myth’ means a
‘true story’ and, beyond that, a story that is a most precious possession because it is
sacred, exemplary, significant.” (Myth and Reality 1).
Of course, the intention of Eliade here is to re-contextualize myth in its place in a
determined culture, and by doing so rescue its importance, and the seriousness which
its consideration required. However, it seems rather difficult to accept the idea that
myth was indeed ever understood by that generation of scholars (including Eliade
himself) as ‘true story,’ in the sense he seems to affirm.
On the contrary, it rather seems to be the case that the problem of truth was, for
all purposes, bracketed below a phenomenological apparatus, “on the grounds of
selective and apparently ‘essentialist’ categories.”42
When we accept myth is a truth for others (in the past), we just relativize the
value of truth only partially43
, implying that it is not so in reality (our times). This is
why Eliade’s theory has to hang strongly on essentialist concepts like the sacred, or
time. Thus myth is ‘true’ (for ‘them,’ in the context of sacredness and
other-temporality), but still ‘wrong’ (for us, in our context). So whether we want it or
not, we are still affirming that myth is, finally, not truth.
To affirm that in archaic or primitive societies myth is “thought to express the
42
Ellwood, p.107. 43
By partial relativization we mean just that. An incomplete relativization of truth,
only in intent.
35
absolute truth, because it narrates a sacred history” (Myths, Dreams, and Mysteries 23)
is ambiguous: ‘thought to express’ is not the same as affirming that ‘it is.’ Thus it is
only a partial relativization of truth, where truth is still placed ‘near us,’ and not ‘close
to them.’ Essentialist concepts like ‘sacred history’ or ‘expression of absolute truth’
also show this partial relativism.
In any case, we believe Mircea Eliade pointed correctly to the importance of the
question of the value of truth in definitions of myth; he identified correctly a problem
in conceptualizing myth as a narrative opposed to reality (or truth). However, he
failed in observing how much he himself and his generation where still working under
those same presumptions.
The problem of truth in myth is still an unresolved issue. Myth, is affirmed,
cannot be true, it is false, it is a lie. But by doing so, we apparently take away from
myth all possibility of value.44
What are we to do of all this?
Following the shift from phenomenology to hermeneutics, the bracketing of truth
was followed by other procedures, like the idea of re-valorizing myth. In the The
Symbolism of Evil, for example, Paul Ricoeur initially defines myth in a way that
closely echoes Eliade’s; he explains myth as “not a false explanation by means of
images and fables, but a traditional narration which relates to events that happened at
44
Thus what is understood as demythologization. See Ricoeur.
36
the beginning of time and which has a purpose.” (Ricoeur 5) But he has in mind
something very different to the partial relativization of myth’s truth. He later goes in
the opposite direction, negating any possibility of recovering through interpretation
myth’s original value of truth.45
Ricoeur’s intention is to somehow rescue myth from its devaluation for modern
man. Now, this devaluation, according to him, is precisely forced by myth’s
etiological nature (myth as an explanation of reality). Thus, for Ricoeur, to rescue
myth it is necessary first to destroy its etiological intention. This is what he calls
demythologization.
But notice here how this project is also starting from a definition of myth as false
narrative: he is clearly stating that myth is first and foremost not true (wrong etiology
is its primary essence). So where Eliade suggested that the truth value of a myth could
still be accepted in the context of sacred time, Ricoeur is affirming that the essence of
myth itself cannot be redeemed and must be abandoned. The rest follows naturally
from this premise: modern man can no longer believe in myth. Myth has to be
transformed into something else to be re-valued.46
45
Ricoeur, p. 5: “For us, moderns, a myth is only a myth because we can no longer
connect that time with the time of history as we write it, employing the critical method,
nor can we connect mythical places with our geographical space. This is why the
myth can no longer be an explanation; to exclude its etiological intention is the theme
of all necessary demythologization.” 46
Ricoeur, p. 164: “If (…) the myth is to survive this double distinction of history
and myth as well as of explanation and myth, the myth must not be either history,
37
There is a contradiction here. Ricoeur presented himself before as following the
definition of History of Religions, described as no longer finding in myth ‘a false
explanation by means of images and fables, but a traditional narration.’ And yet later
he is insisting that myth is in essence a false explanation. This again is indicating the
conflict between a new definition proposed following and interpretation and a
traditional understanding of what is myth.
Ricoeur constructs a layered hierarchy where he places symbol, myth, and
pseudo-scientific myth or gnosis. In the opposite extremes of this hierarchy are
experience and speculation.
Initially, man faces the experience of feelings. He then expresses this experience
through symbol(s). Myth is a development and speculation of this original
experience-to-expression movement. Pseudo-knowledge or ‘gnosis’ is one more step
removed from experience, as a further speculative development from myth. Thus
myth is in the middle position between symbol and irrational speculation.
Symbols are also, like myths, expressions of experience, but since they are closer
to experience they are more spontaneous (pure, not contaminated by speculation). It
follows that Ricoeur only values myths as a way of recovering symbol for
re-constructing experience, through the analytical dismantling of myth. Once we get
happening in a definite time and place, or explanation. (…) For a critical
understanding of myth it is first necessary that the myth be entirely divorced from the
“etiological” function with which it appears to be identified.”
38
rid of the etiological function (demythologization), myth can become “a vessel of
meaning” (Ricoeur 349) through symbol.47
Here we can observe the main theoretical problem of his theory of myth. Ricoeur
supposes that symbols are previous to myth, and closer to experience. But when we
observe his examples of symbols (defilement, sin, guilt, and water as threat/renewal in
flood/baptism) it appears problematic whether they can have any value independent of
myths. In other words, symbols appear as secondary expressions originated on the
context of a myth. Thus, their quality of spontaneity in comparison to myths’
speculative nature is put to doubt. Symbols depend on the narrative of myth for their
meaning.
The work of Ricoeur is important for us because it shows in a crystal-clear way
the dual stage process of construction of definitions of myth in relation to the
requirements of interpretation.
Previous Definition Interpretation New Definition
(or Assumptions)
Ricoeur wants to rescue myth from its devaluation, building a new definition (as
47
Ricoeur, p. 18: “(…) I shall always understand by symbol (…) analogical
meanings which are spontaneously formed and immediately significant (…) I shall
regard myths as a species of symbols, as symbols developed in the form of narrations
and articulated in a time and space that cannot be co-ordinated with the space and
time of history and geography according to the critical method.”
39
vessel for symbols of experience). But for that he needs to destroy completely the
etiological function (the value of truth) of the previous definition. Notice how his new
definition is born necessarily of the requirements of his interpretation of symbol,
experience, and speculation.
What is myth then? The ability to identify or distinguish myth-narratives from
non myth-narratives remains as elusive as before, even though in the second part of
his work Ricoeur will profusely discuss, give interpretations, and evaluate narratives
that he considers myths.
We have then, yet another proof that definitions of myth are constructed
backwards, from methods or theories of interpretation. By this we mean that they start
from previous assumptions about what myth should and should not be. In that sense,
they start from a previous definition (a pseudo or proto definition), which we will call
from now a ‘standard definition of myth’ (SDM).
But it also seems clear now that definitions of myth that are constructed in this
way, based on the requirements of interpretations, present serious problems when it
comes to answer the question of what is myth.
We have affirmed that this SDM is consensual, in other words, it seems to be
universally accepted. It consists of two elements (or affirmations): myth is narrative,
and is false narrative (truth valuation).
40
By ‘truth valuation’ (TrV) we simply mean a negative evaluation of myth, in
relation to truth. That is, a myth is a false narrative, a lie. When myth is opposed to
truth, it is also opposed to reason and to history. Thus, all these oppositions form the
TrV of myth.
Let’s repeat here one more time what this SDM involves: myth is a type of
narrative that is not true, but false. As such, myth is a narrative that can be
distinguished from history.
2.6 The Western ideology behind Truth Valuation (TrV)
Against what we have said before it could be protested that the TrV implicated in
a SMD might have its natural origins in the etymology of the word ‘myth’ itself; in
other words, that the definition of myth as false narrative is merely a fact that has
always been included in the value of the word. Thus, any different definition of myth
would be problematic, and would be going against the traditional and true meaning of
myth.
At the same time, the opposition between myth and logos and myth and history
is traditionally traced back by scholars to Greece, and Greek philosophy, since the
word myth itself comes from ancient Greece. It would be useful, then, to revise
briefly the etymology of myth, and thus answer in advance that complain.
41
Gregory Nagy48
derives the word myth (muthos) from the Greek verb muo,
“which means ‘I have my mouth closed’ or ‘I have my eyes closed’ from the
standpoint of everyday situations, but ‘I say in special way’ or ‘I see in a special way’
from the standpoint of marked situations in ritual.” (Nagy 3) In that sense myth would
seem to mean ‘special speech,’ as opposed to everyday speech.
Similarly, Bruce Lincoln49
explains that in its earliest attestations in the Greek
epic, logos and mythos represented two different and opposed forms of speech. Logos
connoted not a rational argumentation but rather ‘shady speech acts’ (like seduction,
beguilement, and deception), which inferiors used to outwit those who held power
over them, while mythos was the speech of the ‘preeminent’ (poets and kings), those
with authority, having the capacity to advance powerful truth claims,50
and backed by
physical force. (Lincoln x) It never means ‘false story,’ ‘symbolic story,’ ‘sacred
story.’ (Lincoln 7)
In Hesiod, for example, mythos represents a discourse of power and authority
that has to be believed and obeyed, while in the Illiad, it appears as a speech of power,
performed in public, by one with authority. Likewise, it forces consent from those
48
Nagy, Gregory. Greek Mythology and Poetics. New York: Cornell University Press
(1992). 49
Lincoln, Bruce. Theorizing Myth: Narrative, Ideology, and Scholarship. Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1999. Print. 50
In the context described by Lincoln, it does not seem to me that ‘truth claims’ here
necessarily imply TrV. Mythos would be a speech of power, a speech that becomes
truth, not because of its content, but merely because it is backed by a figure of
authority.
42
inferior to the speaker, and only those equal in status are allowed to oppose it.
(Lincoln 7)
Gregory Nagy alternatively traces the origins of the dichotomy between muthos
‘myth’ and aletheia ‘truth’ in the context of the development of the Archaic Greek
city-state and the tendency of pan-Hellenism. The ‘singers’ are socially mobile, and
thus what they sing is conditioned by their mobility, forcing them to detach myths
from ritual, since myths must be carried to different locations. What is accepted as
sacred tradition in one community will be considered pseudos (a fallacy or lie) in
another. Thus, in this tradition what is ‘convergent is highlighted while that divergent
shaded over.’ Muthos becomes related with the divergences, while aletheia with the
convergences, and ‘truth’. (Nagy 30)
Be as it may, these authors agree that before Plato the word mythos had a higher
position than the word logos. As a result of Plato's polemic, mythos was finally
displaced in importance by logos. Under Plato, “mythoi were not only revised but also
radically revalorized. What others had taken to be primordial revelations or
undeniable truths now were treated as state propaganda, best suited for children and
those incapable of adopting the discourse and practice of the ruling elite, within an
emergent regime of truth that called (and calls) itself ‘philosophy.’” (Lincoln 42) But
even then myth was not necessarily understood as false narrative, inferior to logos,
43
“false on the whole but still having some truth in it." (Lincoln 43)
This is important for us, because it proves that the opposition between truth and
myth that today is part of a Western ideology can be traced a long way back in time,
to after Plato, but not to its origins and as a consequence needs not be so. At the same
time, this can be taken as a relevant warning: the discipline of Buddhist Studies may
be, in relation to myth, working under ideological assumptions that may be totally
foreign to their object of study.
44
Chapter III: Myth in Buddhist Studies
3.1 Myth as corruption
There is a notorious lack of works dealing specifically with Buddhist ‘myths.’
The concept, for example, seems to be avoided from most general overviews of the
religion.51
Thus, from and academic perspective, it could be perhaps easily concluded
that the concept of myth has no importance whatsoever in the study of the religion.52
However, as we will see later, this is not the case.
In scholarly literature about Buddhism, three modes of use for myth are
commonly encountered. The first, involves the use of the concept of ‘myth’ in an
often un-technical way (generally lacking in precision). In this use the value given to
the word is, generally speaking, negative, but even then, with contradictory and
confusing connotations.53
This mode often involves an apologetic discourse towards
51
See for example the conspicuous absence of ‘myth’ in Gombrich, Richard. What
the Buddha Taught. London: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2009, Gethin, Rupert. The
Foundations of Buddhism. Great Britain: Oxford University Press, 1998, and Warder,
A. K. Indian Buddhism. India: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 2000. The first two
authors are important for the analysis of Buddhist mythical scriptures, yet none of
them has used the concept in their ‘introductory’ works. Gombrich has totally
replaced its use, in practical terms, for metaphor, allegory, and satire. See the third
chapter of his book How Buddhism Began: The conditioned genesis of the early
teachings. 2nd ed. USA: Routledge, 2005. 52
One could even argue that scholars avoiding the word myth altogether are perhaps
working under particular ideological assumptions (see Almond) about the Theravada
form of the religion. 53
King, p. 211: “(…) the term ‘myth’ would not commend itself to a Theravada (or
45
the religion.54
The second mode occupies an intermediary position between non-technical and
technical modes of the use of myth. In it, myth is assumed to be somehow a metaphor
or symbol for doctrine. Thus, words like kamma, bodhisattva, māra, are considered
elements of Buddhist mythology,55
interpreted as representations of doctrine.
The third mode of use is highly technical. In it, the negative valuation of myth is
always connected with the theoretical assumptions that Buddhist studies adopts for its
method of historical stratification of scriptures (Higher Criticism). In short, the
presence of myth in a scripture is most of the time a strong argument against its
original purity, and thus against the possibility that the text in question represents an
early stage in the history of its development and transmission. In that way, the
presence or absence of myth in a scripture is often considered a good indicator for
dating texts.56
Southern) Buddhist, for two reasons: As a fundamentalist who prides himself on the
pristine purity and authenticity of his tradition and scriptures, he does not take kindly
to talk about myth, symbolism, and the like. The other reason is that the distinction in
Western thought between the symbolic and literal, or the mythical and historical, is
largely foreign to the Buddhist and Eastern way of thinking. (…) In case the
distinction is made, Buddhism tends to regard the mental and subjective realm as the
more essential and real.” In a quote like this, for example, myth denotes the opposite
of purity and authenticity in a tradition, and thus it has a clear negative value, while at
the same time it is implicitly related with the mental and subjective realm, which,
according to this author, is exactly what the Buddhist tradition considers as more
essential and real!” 54
See the rest of this chapter for some examples. 55
For a classical example, see Carus, Paul. “The Mythology of Buddhism.” The
Monist. Vol. 7.3 Apr (1897): 415-445. 56
For a criticism of the method see Gombrich, Richard. “Recovering the Buddha’s
46
Notwithstanding this, and surprisingly, Buddhist studies have not developed a
theory of myth. Important authors interested in the study of texts normally identified
as myth pay little attention to any theoretical implications.57
The definition used is
most of the time simply commonsensical,58
(corresponding to what we have named
before the SDM).
In any case, there seems to be a consensus in the scholarly community, both East
and West, that myth is a matter of secondary importance for the core of Buddhism; it
is presumed that myths (or mythical elements) are marginal, and have no relevance to
the core of the religion, or that they are merely symbols of doctrine. So if myths are
studied, it must always be in relation of dependence with another element. Naturally,
this other element often happens to be philosophical doctrine.59
The historical origins for this situation have been convincingly explained by
modern scholars working on the self-critical dimension of the discipline. In particular,
Message.” Earliest Buddhism and Madhyamaka (Panels of The VIIth World Sanskrit
Conference VOL. II). Eds. David Seyfort Ruegg and Lambert Schmithausen. The
Netherlands: E. J. Brill, 1990. 5-23. According to Gombrich, the method was
developed by Frauwallner and we must “remember that most of that work was applied
to philosophical texts which were undoubtedly written and read. (…) the kind of
analysis which can dissect a written philosophical tradition is inappropriate for oral
materials.” (Gombrich 1990. p. 8). 57
See for example the case of Gethin and Gombrich, discussed in our fourth chapter. 58
See Waldschmidt, E. Die Uberlieferung vom Lebensende des Buddha: eine
vergleichende Analyse des Mahāparinirvānasūtra und seiner Textentsprechungen.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1944–48. 59
A similar situation is that of Buddhist cosmology. However, works on Buddhist
cosmology are more common, probably due to the fact that cosmology can be easily
related to doctrine, and thus justified as metaphor or symbolical expression of
philosophical doctrine. At the same time it can be discarded as an understandable
pre-modern mistake.
47
the work of Philip C. Almond60
in regard to the encounter and ‘discovery’ of
Buddhism by the British Empire during the 19th
century (and as a consequence the
origins of the discipline of Buddhist studies), as well as several articles of Gregory
Schopen61
dealing with the opposition of archeological history against a textual
history. Both scholars have made a call of attention towards what they call a
Protestant ideology that has been operating behind the discipline of Buddhist studies.
For Almond, many of the foundational theoretical assumptions of the discipline,
among which we found those related with myth, have been carried over from the
Victorian period where Buddhism as a religion was created for the West, when for the
first time it “becomes an object” (Almond 12). Chief among these is the
predominance of a constructed image of Buddhism based on text62
(pure and
idealized (not mythical).
This text centrism is best understood as a continuation of the Protestant Christian
ideology of the era, which had previously constructed an image of what ‘true religion’
should be. As such it opposed texts to tradition, history to myth, original message to
60
Almond, Philip C. The British Discovery of Buddhism. New York: Cambridge
University Press, 1988. 61
See Schopen, Gregory. Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected papers on
the Archeology, Epigraphy, and Texts of Monastic Buddhism in India. United States
of America: University of Hawai’i Press, 1997. 62
See Franklin, J. Jeffrey. The Lotus and The Lion: Buddhism and The British
Empire. New York: Cornell University Press, 2008.
48
corruption.63
Almond distinguishes between two phases in the process of the Victorian
creation of Buddhism. In the first phase, Buddhism remained located far away, exotic.
It is only in the second phase that an appropriation really started.64
The successful cultural appropriation of Buddhism required a possession through
texts.65
At the same time this possession warranted the dominance and control over
what Buddhism should be. This text centrism gave the discipline of Philology an
enormous position of cultural power and prestige. (Almond) As a consequence, it
gained a place of predominance in Buddhist studies.
Influenced by the Protestant ideology, and perhaps in imitation of the quest for
the historical Jesus,66
the textual study of Buddhism became a project for the
63
The SDM (also accepted in Buddhist studies) probably has its origins here. 64
Almond, p. 13: “Originally existing 'out there' in the Oriental present, Buddhism
came to be determined as an object the primary location of which was the West,
through the progressive collection, translation, and publication of its textual past.
Buddhism, by 1860, had come to exist, not in the Orient, but in the Oriental libraries
and institutes of the West, in its texts and manuscripts, at the desks of the Western
savants who interpreted it. It had become a textual object, defined, classified, and
interpreted through its own textuality. By the middle of the century, the Buddhism that
existed 'out there' was beginning to be judged by a West that alone knew what
Buddhism was, is, and ought to be. The essence of Buddhism came to be seen as
expressed not 'out there' in the Orient, but in the West through the West's control of
Buddhism's own textual past.” 65
Franklin, p. 5: “European scholars asserted the precedence of their textualized
Buddhism over the indigenous practices of actual Buddhists in Asia. This represented
a form of imperial appropriation of the religious other, a form of discursive violence
that supplemented the physical violence of conquest and occupation. At its farthest
remove from the violence that defines it, “discovery” must be understood as
“construction”: the process by which nineteenth-century British culture assimilated or
failed to assimilate elements of Buddhism.” 66
Almond p. 66-67: “(…) for there is a very real sense in which, especially as
49
reconstruction of the historical Buddha, his original teachings, and an earlier, more
pure form of the religion: an idealized version of Buddhism was born.
The problem was myth. After all, the Buddha was 500 years older than Jesus (at
the very limits of any possible Indian history), with more than enough time for the
development and expansion of all kinds of non-historical material (myth), which now
was covering the earliest, purest strata.
Thus a method was developed to separate the original elements from the later
corruptions or accretions. The principle involved the exclusion of the miraculous and
the supernatural from what was considered historical accurate. (Almond 65)
The discussion between an idealized reconstructed Buddhism affected the way
Mahāyāna Buddhism was initially perceived. Contrasting the ideal textual purity of an
artificial Buddhism was the reality of the then contemporary degenerated Mahāyāna,
and “a discourse of 'pure' versus 'corrupt' Buddhism was developed on the foundation
of the historical priority of Pali Buddhism and the posteriority of Mahāyāna
Buddhism.” (Almond 95)
In relation to this, the Pāli Canon of the Theravada tradition gained a position as
primus inter pares; it was conceived as historically closer to the supposed original
doctrine of the Buddha, not only due to its presumed antiquity. It was also considered
regards its methodology, British research into the life of the Buddha paralleled that of
European research into Jesus [and thus it would] not be unreasonable to surmise that,
indirectly at least, there may have been some influence.”
50
more reliable due to the apparent fewer presence of myth in it.67
From this apparently low proportional quantity of myth, it was possible to push
for an even more original construction, leading to what was to be called Early
Buddhism, and then to what was the original doctrine of the Buddha.68
As Schopen has shown, this text-centric method and its idealized object continue
to have a position of predominance in Buddhist studies even today. Although more
critical voices like Schopen have started to be felt. Trainor,69
for example, talks about
a consensus among modern Western scholars that agrees that the texts of the various
Buddhist traditions “cannot provide much historically reliable information about the
details of the Buddha’s life.” (Trainor 4)
Yet some scholars still “want to assume that accounts of miraculous occurrences
and passages depicting a devotional attitude toward the person of the Buddha (…)
67
Reat, p. 49: “Then as now, the vast majority of Indians lived under the loft canopy
of a highly sophisticated spirituality, but contented themselves with a simple religion
focused upon a variety of supernatural beings believed to exert influence upon their
day-to-day lives. (…) Nikaya Buddhism, by contrast, was not in a position to
participate in this devotional trend. Its doctrines clearly condemn rituals and portray
the various popular deities as being deluded or as being followers of the Buddha.” 68
Almond, p. 66: “Already back then there where critical voices not so optimistic.
Rhys Davids himself was not immune from such criticism. Edgar Ware in The
Fortnightly Review criticized his rationalistic approach. 'The modern system', he
wrote, of rejecting whatever is supernatural, and accepting the residue as historical,
gives a very charming and not improbable romance, as may be seen in Mr Rhys
David's [sic] graceful article in the present edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.
But this account is not a whit more trustworthy than early Roman history as
constructed on the principle of Niebuhr or a German or French life of Jesus of
Nazareth.’” 69
Trainor, Kevin. Relics, ritual, and representation in Buddhism: Rematerializing the
Sri Lankan Theravada tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.
51
represent later strata in the developing Buddha legend.” (Trainor 5)
So at the center of the problem of reconstructing the original teachings of the
Buddha is the question of the historical stratification of the Pāli suttas, and myth
works as another criterion of authenticity in determining this. Likewise, the valuation
of the Pāli Canon is somehow directly connected with the problem of the modern
understanding of myth and its opposition to truth, in the form of a negative
relationship: less myth equals more historical truth.
But then, how is it possible that considering the technical importance given to
myth there is no real theory developed for Buddhist studies?
For scholars of Buddhism, the problem of myth is demanding. Myth or mythical
elements in the Pāli Canon appear contradictory to the sanitized and idealized western
construct of a ‘hypothetical original core’ of the Buddhist doctrine. If myth is present
in the Pāli Canon, the question is whether it is traceable to the Buddha himself or it is
a posterior development (a corruption). In the context of a teacher that apparently70
discouraged his followers from useless speculations not conducing to salvation, what
are we to make of the presence of myth in the earliest scriptures?
Thus, myth becomes useful tool when it can be trimmed. This has been the most
common way of dealing with the problem of myth in Buddhism scholarship, apart
70
As in some, and only some texts.
52
from ignoring it completely. Myths cannot be traced back in time to the Buddha. Myth
doesn’t make sense, unless in a negative way: less myth means more truth. More myth
means more development, more corruption.
Thus, myth is an almost automatic disqualifying criterion for authenticity, and
when you remove it from the text (as a part or mythical elements) or we you remove
an entire sutta (as a text or narrative) the rest can be restored to their original pristine
form.
3.2 Hidden or disguised myth
Now we turn to TrV in Buddhist studies. Myth has such a strong negative value
behind, that when it is described as an essential component of any religion there are
those scholars who would want to affirm then, that, since Buddhism lacks myth, it
should not be considered a religion.
Even a reputed scholar like Walpola Rahula, in his now classic introduction to
Buddhism,71
felt compelled to suggest that the religion may well deserve to be
considered as something else instead. He even affirmed that whether Buddhism was
part of the category ‘religion’ or not was irrelevant.72
71
Rahula, Walpola. What the Buddha Taught. USA: Gordon Fraser, 1959. 72
Rahula, p. 1: “Among the founders of religions the Buddha (if we are permitted to
call him the founder of a religion in the popular sense of the term) was only a teacher
who did not claim to be other than a human being, pure and simple.” Also, Rahula p.
5: “(…) the question has often been asked: Is Buddhism a religion or a philosophy? It
53
The labels may well be irrelevant for a believer involved in apologetics, but
doubtfully so for a scholar. The important thing is that the suggestion that ‘Buddhism
is not a religion’ converges and is inter-dependent with the idea that there is no myth
in it. For establishing the link between no-myth and no-religion, another idea closely
related is brought forward: there is no place for faith in Buddhism.
For scholars fond of thinking of myth as a false narrative, and religion
understood as an institution which demands belief in myths (unproven or simply false
stories), Buddhism should not be considered a religion, because, as the argument goes,
it doesn’t demand belief or faith73
However, the Buddhism defended and proclaimed in such arguments is not a real,
historical Buddhism; it is rather an idealized textual version invented by the West
(Almond) in the age of Colonialism, under the influence of the Protestant ideology;
indeed, a Buddhism without any real foundation beyond philology. As a proof, this
idealized version of Buddhism contradicts a great number of real observed
phenomena that has a direct connection with myth, belief, and faith in the East,
whether modern or past.
And even when considering Theravada Buddhism the problem of myth is not as
does not matter what you call it. Buddhism remains what it is whatever label you may
put on it. The label is immaterial.”[!]. 73
Rahula, p. 8: “Almost all religions are built on faith-rather ‘blind’ faith it would
seem. But in Buddhism emphasis is laid on ‘seeing’, knowing, understanding, and not
on faith, or belief.”
54
simple as it is made to appear by some scholars. Winston L King74
has cleverly
manifested the inherent theoretical problems and contradictions of considering any
Buddhism, including Theravada Buddhism (and even Zen), as pure of myth. For King,
even a ‘pure’ and ‘absolute’ experience (that is, devoid of ‘cosmic and historical
relativities’) is “conditioned and formed in the matrix of Buddhist ideas about the
nature of the self, its innate capacities, and its relation to the universe about it.” (King
218)
According to King it is simply impossible to escape the formative power of this
‘matrix.’ And he suggests that perhaps this ‘pure experience’ may be indeed a form of
“new super-symbolism in which psychological attitudes, their genesis, development,
and significance have become a new cosmology, a metaphysic of action if not of
concept.” (King 218) And thus, we may add, a new form of myth. King calls this a
mythos in-reverse.75
But returning to our practical concerns, after it is affirmed that there cannot be
myth in Buddhism, what happens with all those things that under the dominance of a
SDM should be considered myth or mythical?
74
King, Winston L. “Myth in Buddhism: Essential or Peripheral?” Journal of Bible
and Religion. Vol. 29.3 Jul (1961): 211-218. 75
King, p. 218: “It becomes a mythos-in-reverse, which, instead of reworking
historical and natural realities in terms of human value apprehensions in the usual
religious manner, takes man's inner mental states and calls them ultimate realities.
Whether a system of mythically reworked history and nature, or one of cosmologized
mind-states, is the more dependent upon myth, it is impossible to decide.”
55
Three options are commonly followed to deal with them by scholars: a. they are
simply ignored, b. they are disguised as something else, or c. they are considered
extraneous and posterior to the original text or doctrine in question.76
For the first option, which happens to be the easiest one, a scholar just needs to
follow the artificial idealized Western construction of Buddhism, which we mentioned
before. It is also common in the studies of Buddhism, that when cautious authors want
to avoid the use of myth as a general category, they satisfy themselves with changing
noun for adjective: thus, instead of a clear definition of myth we get mythical
elements, mythical motifs, mythical narratives, and a great number of other. The result
of the lexical transmutation from object to quality (seen as safer theoretically),
however, is normally as disappointing as the definition that it supposedly avoided (we
will see this in more detail in our next chapter).
In the case of the second option, those elements that ought to be identified as
myth become either merely a symbol for doctrine or something else, or in a more
extreme case, are defended as empirically real and verifiable. For example, David
Kalupahana, in an important work77
dealing with Buddhist philosophy, will affirm
76
The first two are documented by Schopen. See specially his articles “Archeology
and Protestant Presuppositions in the Study of Indian Buddhism” and “Two Problems
in the History of Indian Buddhism: The Layman/Monk Distinction and the Doctrines
of the Transference of Merit,” in Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected
papers on the Archeology, Epigraphy, and Texts of Monastic Buddhism in India.
United States of America: University of Hawai’i Press, 1997. 77
Kalupahana, David J. Buddhist Philosophy: A historical Analysis. Honolulu: The
56
that: “Kamma and rebirth are two aspects of life personally verified by the Buddha
through extrasensory perception.” (Kalupahana 1976 44)
By arguing that the Buddha personally verified the existence of kamma and
rebirth, Kalupahana tries to oppose the notion that these concepts, as common cultural
beliefs current in the time of the Buddha, probably originated in that particular
historical context, and where adopted by him. But notice how by doing so, he is
forced to defend the reality of the supposed extrasensory experiences of the Buddha.
Thus, it can be argued, the scholar has changed his ‘robes’ for those of the
apologetic believer. Such arguments in defense of the Buddha’s supernatural cognitive
powers indirectly carry the implication of his probable infallibility, and thus, are
inherently connected with faith and belief in his supra-mundane condition.
In any case, kamma as well as rebirth, two concepts that should normally fit
perfectly well a mythical identification (because, according to a SDM based on TrV,
they cannot be accepted as true), are instead disguised as probable, possible, and
scientifically sound, even though there has never been (and probably there will never
be) any proof of their authenticity. Again, ironically, the experience of the Buddha is
quoted as enough warranty of its reality or truthfulness.
We are not interested here in arguing against Buddhist doctrine; and it is likewise
University Press of Hawaii, 1976.
57
irrelevant for us whether the Buddha invited his disciples and followers to try out by
themselves any experience for confirmation. We just want to point out that many
central Buddhist concepts could not avoid a negative TrV if a SDM was operating
openly and objectively. But they can pass scrutiny because a SDM is never formally
or officially stated.
Buddhism evidently asks for faith, and it can do that on account of its set of
particular beliefs. Faith is merely the acceptance of a set of beliefs, whatever they are.
Such a set of religious beliefs is probably sustained by myth. Scholars opposed to the
idea of faith or belief in Buddhism, are forced to disguise myth either as reality (truth)
or as symbol and metaphor. Kalupahana, independent of his qualities as a scholar,
often do both.78
As can be seen, the second option of disguising myth as something else, is
intimately connected with the third one: myth is an extraneous layer, a posterior
accretion that covers or, as Kalupahana puts it, ‘enshrines’ truth.79
Of course, the
78
Kalupahana 1992, p. 22: The story of the life of the Buddha has become enshrined
in all forms of myths and legends, as in the case of many religious teachers of the past.
Distinguishing historical facts from myths and legends is not only a difficult task but
one that is generally resisted by the overenthusiastic devotee. Such resistance can
seem justified if the interpreter of the myths tends to assume that they are mere
imaginations of the faithful disciple. Yet a more sober and careful analysis reveals that
these myths symbolize important emotional or psychological events connected with
the personalities involved or with actual historical incidents that called for dramatic
explanations. 79
Notice here the intelligent play of words. ‘Enshrines’ reminds of the custom of
building Buddhist stupas for relics. The problem of relics is closely related with the
problem of myth, but we cannot develop this idea here. For a detailed account of the
idealization and invention of Buddhism, and its relation to relics, see in our
58
suggestion implicit is that, under the uncomfortable presence of myth, Buddhist truth
can be recovered by trimming myth.
3.3 Narrative appearances
In pursue of history, scholars of Buddhist studies often fall into a trap. Let us put
the problem in the following words: religious narratives like those of Buddhism are
today considered very differently than those of the likes of the Greeks. This
distinction in appearance seems to be justified by the narrative contents themselves.
For scholars of religion, it seems as if the Greek myths were accepted as pure
myths. When facing the Dīgha Nikāya, however, ‘myth’ suddenly loses corporeality.
This can be expressed in the following way: every story of Zeus is clearly a myth, but
every story Buddha is not. It is as if a Greek myth was a myth before been classified
as a ‘narrative,’ while in the case of a Buddhist sutta it was the opposite. Why is this
so?
We have seen before how idealization has been operating in Buddhist studies.
This is, no doubt, one important reason. With the negative valuation of myth a series
of phenomena are simply wiped out of narratives.
bibliography Strong, John S. Relics of The Buddha. New Jersey: Princeton University
Press, 2004, and Trainor, Kevin. Relics, ritual, and representation in Buddhism:
Rematerializing the Sri Lankan Theravada tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2007.
59
But there is more. The category of ‘myth’ becomes diffused or diluted when it is
pushed aside by the ‘appearance’ of historical reality in a narrative. Every story of
Zeus seems to be purely mythical because Zeus ‘certainly’ appears for us as not real.
It is not only that Zeus was never proclaimed a man. It is also the fact that his
narrative actions, and the events that surround them, also appear unreal. Apparently,
history cannot reclaim anything from a myth.
In the opposite way, not only there is the historical probability of the real
existence of a man who was called Buddha, but also of his narrative actions, which
could correspond to ‘real’ possible actions. In addition, such a hypothetical individual
may have been truly surrounded by similar events, as described in the particular
narratives. We should call this general narrative phenomenon of likeness the
appearance of historical probability in a narrative.
What exactly are these ‘narrative appearances of probability’? When we think
that a character like Buddha, in a particular religious narrative, appears to be a
historically probable figure (a real person), we are in some way accepting the
appearance or illusion of reality that the text bestows. 80
Whom we see (or read) on
the text, comes closer to our real world. But in reality, this character can never be
anything else but an element of a narrative. In narrative terms it is not relevant how
80
McClintock, p. 94: “We do not often think of the Buddha as a literary character.
Most of us tend to think of him instead as the founder of a religion, a historical figure
who happens to appear in the religious literature of ancient India and elsewhere.”
60
close he is to a true historical or real figure. The same happens with the actions and
events surrounding such a character. They are appearances of realities in a text, and
should not be confused with history or reality.
A text is a world with its own rules, and the problem is when scholars of
Buddhists studies become confused by these narrative appearances as elements of
real probability. In other words scholars of Buddhism have unconsciously blurred the
lines of literature and reality. The negative valuation of myth is the result of this
transgression.
Thus, in terms of narrative analysis, historical and truth valuations should never
have such preeminence over a text, because, as Northrop Frye81
puts it, “literary
works do not pretend to describe or assert, and hence are not true, not false.” (Frye
1957 73)
If every scholar at least agrees on defining myth as narrative why this connection
has not been examined more carefully? If we are finally to take myths as narratives,
we would do much good in putting aside once and for all the question of their
historical reliability or value-weight. With this we don’t mean to suggest that
historical studies of texts should be abandoned, but just that in terms of the study of
myth, Buddhist studies should give priority to the narrative side of myth. But to study
81
Frye, Northrop. Anatomy of Criticism: Four Essays. New Jersey: Princeton
University Press, 1957.
61
myth as a narrative it seems necessary a theoretical apparatus that today is beyond the
reach of Philology.
It seems clear at least that a scholars of Buddhist studies should avoid the
confusion between a narrative analysis of myth from: a. the historical analysis of the
form and content of a particular text (the history of a text itself), b. the analysis of the
probability of historicity of what it records (the historicity of the events or actions a
text describe), and c. the analysis of what for lack of better words we could call its
metaphysical truth (the truthfulness of those transcendental axioms, doctrines, topics,
or ‘realities beyond’ it affirms). These are the spheres of philology, history, and
philosophy, respectively. The problem is that normally the category of myth is abused
to conflate these three. Narrative is simple gorged up by them. Even so, none of these
three dimensions correspond to a real narrative analysis of myth, and thus, none of
them can really answer what is myth.
62
Chapter IV: ‘What is myth doing here?’ The problem of myth
in the Mahāsudassana Sutta
4.1 Rupert Gethin’s question:
To better understand the problem of a definition of myth in Theravada Buddhism
we should proceed now to a critical review and analysis of the use of the concept in a
concrete example.
The first problem that we have to surmount is the lack of works dealing directly
with Buddhist myth.82
In addition, those that tackle with myth in a theoretical manner
are unfortunately very few.83
There is an article, however, that is particularly
exceptional in its originality and the implications it presents, and we will use it to
examine some important methodological and theoretical issues in relation to the study
of Buddhist myth. We will also make reference to some other works related with it.
It must be remembered, however, that we will not be conducting here a detailed
82
This is true even for studies related to Mahāyana and Tantric Buddhism. In the
particular case of Mahāyana, an exception to this would be in the study of the idea of
the Bodhisattva. Indeed there are many works dealing with the conception of the
Bodhisattva. However, most of the time is from the perspective of doctrine,
philosophy, or historical development, and not from myth properly speaking. See for
example Anālayo. The Genesis of the Bodhisattva Ideal. Germany: Hamburg
University Press, 2010. 83
More common are those works that explain Buddhist symbols that can, according
to the authors, are related to myth. See a typical example in Carus, Paul. “The
Myhtology of Buddhism.” The Monist. Vol. 7.3 Apr (1897): 415-445.
63
criticism of its philological arguments. Neither will we be arguing in favor or against
its main hypothesis. What interest us here are its theoretical implications for the
understanding of the concept of myth.
Our purpose here then, will be first to confirm with this example how the
problem of the definition of myth materializes in the discipline of Buddhist studies.
Second, to try to trace this difficulty to what we have called before SDM and its TrV.
And third, to show how this problem could be influencing, directly or indirectly, the
results of such an analysis.
The article in question, titled “Mythology as Meditation: From the
Mahāsudassana Sutta to the Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra,” by Rupert Gethin,84
focuses on a
particular text, the Mahāsudassana Sutta (MSud),85
a text (sutta) in the big corpus of
the texts of the Pāli Canon (PCan), of the Theravada tradition.
The PCan, traditionally Tipiṭaka or ‘Three Baskets’, is divided into 3 subsections
or piṭaka: Vinayapiṭaka, Suttapiṭaka, and Abhidhammapiṭaka. The Suttapiṭaka is
named after the literary form (‘suttanta’) prevalent in the first four subsections
(‘nikāya’), of the five it is composed of. The first four subsections “comprise mainly
the discourses of the Buddha and his discussions with disciples and heretics alike. The
84
Gethin, Rupert. “Mythology as Meditation: From The Mahāsudassana Sutta to the
Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra” Journal of The Pali Text Society 28 (2006): 63-112. 85
Gethin’s article focuses on the Pāli version, but he also compares it in some detail
with the Gilgit manuscript version.
64
last (…) comprises a large variety of heterogeneous texts.”86
The Mahāsudassana
Sutta (MSud) is a text in its first subsection, the Dhīganikāya (DN).
As it is well known, this sutta is considered unique among scholars mainly for
two reasons. First, it is closely related in its textual genesis and development to the
important Mahaparinibbāna Sutta (MPar), the sutta of the last days and death of the
Buddha. (Gethin 2006 70) In fact, while it is found as an independent text in the DN
(that is, as a sutta in itself) following the MPar, in other traditions it is still directly
embedded inside this narrative.87
The reasons for this, as well as its general textual
evolution are yet to generate consensus. (Gethin 2006 77)
Second, as Gethin argues in his article, it is considered ‘different’ from the rest of
the suttas of the DN due to its content and structure, which is often described as
mythical. Indeed, this difference appears so remarkable to Gethin that he starts his
article with the apparently simple question: “what is such a myth doing in the corpus
of early Buddhist literature”? (Gethin 2006 64) About its uncommon content and
structure we can briefly mention here its rich and colorful images, its dream-like
descriptions, its narrative simplicity, and its repetitiveness, among other details.88
Gethin’s ingenious conclusion, as we will see later, is that the mythic qualities of
86
v. Hinüber, p. 24. 87
For the details of the other versions see Matsumura, H. The Mahāsudarśanāvadāna
and the Mahāsudarśanasūtra. Bibliotheca Indo-Buddhica. Delhi: Sri Satguru
Publications, Indian Books Centre, 1988. 88
See Waldschmidt. 1944–48.
65
the sutta in question could be better explained as elements that work in the manner of
proto-visualizations (in the manner of a proto-template for later visualizations) or if
one “hesitates to regard [it] as a formal visualization”, in the very least it can be
considered “as a form of early Buddhist ‘meditation.” (Gethin 2006 103)
At the core of his argument lays the similarity between the so called mythical
elements in the Mahāsudassana Sutta and elements of later texts more explicitly
connected with visualization, (Gethin 2006 70, 94) as well as its strange and excessive
repetitiveness. (Gethin 2006 93)89
Gethin also intends to connect the narrative
content of the sutta with the hypothetical purpose of it. He complements his
conclusion with some philological details that we will review later.
It must be pointed out, however, that the author limits himself to presenting this
as a probability, and prudently seems to shy away from a more categorical affirmation.
So much, indeed, that his final conclusion borders on the ambiguous when he affirms
that by meditation (kammaṭṭhāna), following commentarial literature, we could also
understand “recollections of the qualities of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha.”
(Gethin 2006 103) Thus the range of his conclusions is very broad: from formal
visualization aid or template, to mere recollection (here even understood as
remembrance).
89
See Rhys Davis introduction to the MPar. Rhys Davids, T.W. and C.A.F, Rhys
Davids. Dialogues of the Buddha, Part II. 4th edition. London: Pali Text Society,
1954.
66
The important thing for us will be to confirm whether the initial question of what
is such a myth doing in the corpus of early Buddhist literature has been answered
satisfactorily.
4.2 A definition of myth?
Now, the formulation of the author’s starting question already carries three
important implications that we must examine before anything else. First, it
immediately grounds the problem of ‘myth’ in terms of distinctions inside a group of
texts or narratives, a corpus, in this case the PCan. For canon here we mean “a
collection of scriptures (whether oral or written), which gives certain authority to
those texts included in it.”90
The authority in them is well reflected in the fact that its
content is buddhavacana or ‘Buddha Word’91
.
As is well known, the PCan is an exceptional group of texts for several reasons.
Perhaps two of the most relevant ones, are its antiquity and orality.92
However,
scholars assume that while portions of this collection can probably be traced farther
back in time, in the form that we have now it was probably closed near the 6th
or 7th
90
Norman, p. 131. 91
v. Hinuber, p. 7. 92
Geiger, p. 24-25: “The Buddhist canon belongs to the class of anonymous literature.
It has not been shaped by one single author, but it has been growing over a long
period of time. (…) The second important fact is that this literature has been handed
down orally for a considerable time.”
67
centuries.93
All these elements also suggest that the group of texts or corpus that forms this
canon cannot be so easily taken individually: some if not most of them were probably
developed from smaller units, in a process of high interaction.94
Thus an important
amount of intertextuality between them must be assumed. As such, they are
interdependent parts that work as a bigger unit.95
This particular fact, however,
contrasts heavily with “the absence of any theory suiting the needs of studying and
describing Pāli literature.”96
In other words, we are forced to limit what we can say of the particularities of
any text of this corpus, because we know fairly little of the formulas by which they
have been shaped,97
and we seem to lack any information about the actual use made
of them.98
And to make matters worse, scholars like Schopen have been consistently
93
Schopen, 1985 p. 24: “We know (…) that the Pāli Canon as we have it—and it is
generally conceded to be our oldest source—cannot be taken back further than the last
quarter of the first century B.C.E, the date of the Aluvihāra redaction, the earliest
redaction that we can have some knowledge of, and that—for a critical history—it can
serve, at the very most, only as a source for the Buddhism of this period. But we also
know that even this is problematic since, as Malalasekera has pointed out: “…how far
the Tipitaka and its commentary reduced to writing at Aluvihāra resembled them as
they have come down to us now, no one can say.” In fact, it is not until the time of the
commentaries of Buddhaghosa, Dhammapāla, and others—that is to say, the fifth to
sixth centuries C.E.—that we know anything definite about the actual contents of this
canon.” 94
See Black, Brian and Jonathan Green. “The Character of ‘Character’ in Early
South Asian Religious Narratives: An Introductory Essay” Journal of the American
Academy of Religion 79.1 Mar 2011:6-32. Oxford University Press. 11 Dec 2013. 95
As a narrative system. 96
v. Hinuber, p. 1. 97
Geiger, p. 25. 98
Geiger, p. 30.
68
insisting of the methodological problems involved in dating them.99
Considering the lack of a specialized theory to approach them, plus our general
ignorance of their structure and use, it should be considered difficult or problematic to
defend with certainty the reasons or explanations for any kind of perceived
uniqueness of any text inside the corpus, without a clearer understanding of the broad
system in which they are found.
It is in this dangerous context that Gethin chooses to use myth as a conceptual
category to go beyond these problems and to say something about the MSud purposes.
Second, and perhaps more important for us, the author’s starting question
necessarily marks a distinction between the MSud and other texts inside this corpus,
particularly in relation to the rest of the DN which, according to him, is apparently
less mythical. This logically implies that myth is ‘something’ corresponding to or
particular of some of these texts, and not of all, or in the very least that myth
manifests in different grades or levels in the different texts of the DN. Of course in
this we have to trust the author, since his article does not describe in similar terms any
other scripture of the DN beside the MSud.100
However, even though our author has chosen to start and center the analysis of
the text in this ‘a-priori’ assumption, he never makes any effort to explain properly
99
Schopen, 1985, p. 27. 100
But in an earlier article, Gethin talks in similar terms of the Aggañña sutta, so we
will use this to complement his argument.
69
how he achieved this distinction between texts.101
Besides recognizing great difficulty in identifying myth from non-myth, the
author tries to avoid the issue by changing the concept of myth for that of mythic
qualities.102
For the author, these ‘mythic qualities’ seem to correspond to a very
broad and general category in which he would include different dimensions, like
language, content, and structure. Nonetheless, in the way Gethin seems to be applying
it, it would mainly involve properties or elements whose presence lends narrative the
function of myth.103
In any case, this conceptual modification does not satisfy the
need for a definition.
The author’s definition of myth may appear confusing at this point. Nonetheless,
he is working with a definition of myth, and before we can continue we should
re-construct what this definition involves.
Gethin seems initially inclined to the notion of myth as ‘meaning beyond’
101
Gethin, 2006, p. 68: “Admittedly identifying precisely what we might want to
categorize as ‘mythic’ is problematic; in practice nearly any narrative that is
suggestive of a serious underlying meaning beyond its mere recounting of events or
telling of a story might have to be considered as possessing mythic qualities; and in
that case, one might argue that all the narrative portions of the Pāli Nikayas have a
mythic dimension. Nevertheless, some narratives stand out more obviously as mythic
than others. I would suggest that ten or eleven of the thirty-four suttas of the Dhīga
Nikāya are essentially mythic in content.” 102
Another variant of this euphemistic concept is ‘mythical elements.’ See King,
Winston L. “Myth in Buddhism: Essential or Peripheral?” Journal of Bible and
Religion. Vol. 29, No. 3 (Jul, 1961), 211-218. Print. 103
For a greater detail of what the author exactly identifies as mythic qualities in a
text the reader must trace the quotation to Waldschmidt, E. Die Uberlieferung vom
Lebensende des Buddha: eine vergleichende Analyse des Mahāparinirvānasūtra und
seiner Textentsprechungen. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1944–48. The work
of Waldshmidt, however, does not offer much more in terms of a definition of myth.
70
(perhaps better understood as surplus of meaning or metaphor), when he suggests that
myth could be understood as a narrative suggestive of serious underlying meaning
beyond a mere recounting of events or telling of a story. (Gethin 2006 68)
Gethin here distinguishes between two types of narratives: on the one hand,
narratives that merely ‘recount events’ or ‘tell a story’ and on the other hand those
narratives with a surplus, a meaning beyond. In other words, a narrative would be
mythic if it was suggestive of an underlying meaning going beyond the modes or
contents of history or fiction. At the same time while fiction and history are
distinguished, they both can carry meaning beyond, and thus be mythical. Thus it
follows that this first definition of myth does not appear to be necessarily opposed to
history, or particularly identified with fiction.
But Gethin also realizes that if a myth is defined as any narrative which ‘asks’ to
be interpreted beyond, then almost anything in the Pāli Nikayas could be considered
mythic. And yet, even though he accepts that such a classification would make almost
all narratives of the canon deserver of the status of mythical, he still stubbornly insists
that ten or eleven are more strongly so than others.
What exactly happened here? This, as well as the method that supports his final
reasons for considering those ten or so narratives as ‘more obviously’ mythic, are left
for the readers to guess. Furthermore, Gethin does not even give the names of those
71
other ten or eleven suttas that according to him should be considered mythic, thus we
cannot use them or compare them with the MSud.104
Apparently, Gethin is moving rather ambiguously between two different
definitions of myth: the SDM, in which myth is identified as that narrative which has
less suggestion of history (historical probability) or truth (philosophical doctrine), and
a more subjective definition, in which myth is merely a quality or qualities manifested
in additional meaning present in any narrative (thus not necessarily opposed to history
or truth). In the first case myth it is a type of narrative. In the second case, it is a
quality or property of some narratives.
Referring to the mythic qualities of the MSud for example, he later will simply
affirm that “there is nothing here that the modern mind would be tempted to read as
history,” (Gethin 2006 63) thus referring to a definition of myth as opposed to history.
The author’s basic understanding of myth is clearly operating under the old
assumption that myth is opposed to historical truth (SDM). The real determinant for
myth would not be meaning beyond history, as he has initially affirmed, but lack of
history. Thus, there is obviously a conflict of definitions.
But it may not need to be so contradictory after all. The impasse may be
corrected; the idea that myth is meaning beyond history/story juxtaposed to his
104
But we assume at least that one is the Aggañña sutta.
72
previous opinion that myth is simply distinct from history could be harmonized by
understanding that ‘meaning beyond’ does not signify meaning behind history/story.
Gethin then would be suggesting that ‘mythic’ corresponds to that meaning present in
those narratives which cannot be only accounted for as history/story. In other words,
those narratives which appear strange or different from the perspective of history and
fiction would need special explanation.
But we may be doing too big a favor by trying to harmonize these contradictory
perspectives. It is safer to assume that, since Gethin lacks proper theoretical tools for
myth analysis, he is just forced, like others, to follow a SDM. Be as it may, it is
impossible to not notice the lack of clarity when it comes to Gethin’s concept of myth.
4.3 Functional interpretation of myth
Then how can we know when a text goes beyond events and story, or when does
it really have a meaning beyond? In other words, when is a text mythical? In the
context of the PCan, Gethin’s argument naturally carries the implication that mythical
properties, characteristics, or qualities, make a particular text to stand at odds with
other non-mythical texts.
This, we believe, is exactly the case he wants to make for the MSud. The MSud,
as a mythic text, is identified as an odd exception that demands a special kind of
73
explanation for this exceptionality. Thus we are in a circle: a text demands a special
explanation because it is myth, and it is myth because it cannot be explained by a
non-mythical explanation.
Two things should be said in relation to this. The first is that by now it becomes
clear that Gethin is working based on the traditional assumption that the PCan is
predominantly non-mythical (by TrV). Second, the inclusion of a text like the MSud,
certainly more mythical for him, must be warranted by a special reason. From there, it
is just one short step to the search of an explanation for these mythic properties ‘out of
the text’, simply because there is no proper place or proper function for a mythical
text inside the PCan. The concept of myth is then invoked post-facto. It is not that we
identify or classify through the concept of myth. Instead it is merely a naming. Thus, a
particular interpretation is invoking the SDM.
The author’s initial purpose then, is to move in the direction of an explanation of
the ‘mythic qualities’ in the MSud. At the center is the question of the external
function of myth in a particular text. We will refer to this kind of inquiry as a
functional interpretation of myth; in other words, an interpretation of the external, ‘out
of the text’ purpose or finality of a myth.
4.4 Methodology and myth
74
Gethin gives a very thoughtful explanation of the reasons why he thinks myth
and narrative have until recently been avoided as a direct topic of investigation by
researchers of the Pāli canon.105
We believe that Gethin’s portrayal of the reasons for an initial disregard of the
mythical in favor of the ‘historical’ in the scholarly community is very accurate. But
for us it represents just a partial account because it fails to explain the problem of TrV
of myth expressed in the resulting method (i.e. the trimming away of myth).
We have to ask us why myth should be opposed to history; why myth is opposed,
for example, to “those portions concerned directly and explicitly with the classic
teachings.” (Gethin 2006 64) Why myth cannot be part of that so called ‘classic
teaching’?
One could even argue that things moved in the opposite direction: the emphasis
on the search for what the Buddha really taught was at least in part the result of a
cultural predisposition against myth.106
As we will see later, myth has been used as
105
Gethin 2006, p. 64-65: “The scholarship concerned with the Pāli Nikāyas and
early Buddhist thought has paid rather less attention to the mythic and narrative
portions of early Buddhist literature than it has to, say, those portions concerned
directly and explicitly with the classic teachings (…). The reasons for this no doubt go
back in part to a feeling that knowledge of what the historical Buddha really taught
was a possibility. (…) The methods and motivations of the early scholars of the Pāli
canon led them to believe that if they could trim away the mythic and fantastic from
the texts, they would be left with the historical core of the Buddha’s life and teachings.
This resulted in an emphasis on those portions of the canon which show the Buddha
to have been a practical teacher of ethics, moral training, and common sense — those
portions which show him as human rather than divine or superhuman.” 106
See how well this fit with Almond’s description of the Western ideological
appropriation of Buddhism.
75
perhaps the fundamental mark of what the Buddha couldn’t have taught. Thus, the
predisposition against myth is not the result of a historical search, but more like the
catalyst of such a search.
The problem here has much more to do with theoretical assumptions rather than
practical concerns. And the assumption working here is that myth is un-historical;
myth is basically opposed to truth. And thus narrative has to be peeled of it to show its
muddled value.
It is interesting to note that, in an earlier article,107
Gethin’s intuition in this
respect appears formulated in a different manner.108
But even here Gethin insists in
justifying the value of cosmology in relation to doctrine. Thus, in that article Gethin is
subsuming and transforming myth (in this case in the form of cosmology) into
something else.
At the same time, the importance of the term ‘historical Buddha’ appearing in
this context cannot be overlooked. It points out in a similar direction, but to an issue
that goes far beyond the boundaries of Buddhist studies, and thus is more properly
located as part of the scope of the broader field of Philology. ‘Historical Buddha’ here
107
Gethin, Rupert. “Cosmology and Meditation: From the Aggañña-Sutta to the
Mahāyāna.” History of Religions 36.3 (1997): 183-217. 108
Gethin 1997, p. 186: “The overall paucity of scholarly materials dealing with
Buddhist cosmology would seem to reflect a reluctance on the part of modern
scholarship to treat this dimension of Buddhist thought as having any serious bearing
on those fundamental Buddhist teachings with which we are so familiar: the four
noble truths, the eightfold path, no-self, dependent arising, and so on.”
76
not only refers to the real figure of the Buddha, and thus ‘historical truth’ again, but it
also links the issue with the similar but older problem in Biblical criticism: the so
called quest for the ‘Historical Jesus,’ another proof perhaps that ideological
influences were at work.
The search for historicity in Buddhism against myth must be contextualized in
the general background of Colonialism (as we see in the previous chapter). To put it
here in a different way, when scholars where pursuing historical truth de-valuating
myth in Buddhism, they were at the same time bringing all the repertoire of
assumptions of the Western tradition about the opposition of myth vs. historicity and
truth, of that true in religion (historical fact) vs. that false in religion (myth).
Approaches to myth in Buddhism where obviously not starting from an ex nihilo.
4.5 The replacement of myth
Our author refers to what he sees as faulty a-priory assumptions when it comes to
understanding the ‘mythical’ portions of the canon. As an example, he presents a brief
criticism of an article by Richard Gombrich,109
where myth in the Aggañña Sutta
(ASu) is explained as joke, due to its use of nirukti or etymology. Thus according to
Gombrich, the sutta in question should e understood as a parody of Brahmanical ideas
109
Gombrich, Richard. “The Buddha’s Book of Genesis?” Indo-Iranian Journal 35
(1992): 159.–78. Print.
77
and methods rather than a literal account of how the world and society came into
being.
According to Gethin this method of explanation allows Gombrich to accept (we
could perhaps better say ‘replace’) its myth as something the Buddha could have
taught; but that with the passage of time the tradition could not understand anymore,
and ended taking up literally. However, for Gethin this method presents a serious
problem, which he expresses in the following terms:
(…) it is obvious from certain portions of the Pāli
Nikāyas that the Buddha was ‘a reasonable sort of
chap.’, therefore he couldn’t possibly have meant all
that obviously unreasonable stuff about beings falling
from higher heavenly realms and the evolution of the
four classes literally. (…) There is an obvious danger of
circularity here: we know that the Buddha didn’t teach
implausible myths because in the parts of the Nikāyas
that present his genuine teachings there are no
implausible myths; when we come across an
implausible myth it must therefore not belong to his
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genuine teachings - unless, of course, it is just a joke.
(Gethin 2006 66)
We believe that what Gethin has named the ‘danger of circularity’ could be a
central term for dismantling wrong assumptions in relation to myth. However, we
propose that Gethin has not pursued the critical implications of this idea far enough.
For Gethin, the danger of circularity refers to the scholarly wrong method of
valuation of the suttas, by which the awkwardness and absurdity of mythical elements
present in them (from a modern perspective) become evidence for either a possible
corruption of the original ‘pure’ text, or alternatively for its probable un-authenticity,
because the Buddha’s teaching is not supposed to be awkward and absurd. Thus,
scholars are forced to justify and explain these mythical elements in some alternative
way: Gombrich, for example, as jokes.
While Gethin is in this argument extremely perceptive and accurate, his
treatment of Gombrich here seems a little unfair. He bases his criticism in a 1992
article, ignoring a previous 1990 article titled “Recovering the Buddha’s Message”
where Gombrich, although by different reasons, was precisely very critical of
methods related with stratifying the suttas based on inconsistencies and
79
incoherencies.110
In fact, Gombrich’s argument is opposed to scholars’ standard view that
inconsistencies and incoherencies in Buddhist texts can easily be considered later
developments and thus corruptions. For Gombrich is the other way around;
inconsistencies in texts might have a better chance of been correct based on the
principle of textual criticism called “(lectio) difficilior potior.”(Gombrich 1990 9)
Using this principle, he suggests that incoherence and inconsistencies may have a
better chance of going back to the time of Buddha.
Gombrich’s argument is indeed much more refined, based on a detailed textual
analysis of etymologies and probable context. In “Cosmology and Meditation” Gethin
recognizes that much:111
Thus for Gombrich, the recovering of the cultural context is an important task
that allows us “to see the Buddha's message in systematic opposition to beliefs and
110
Gombrich 1992, p. 8: “I turn now to consider the style of argument that attempts
to discern chronological layers in the texts by finding inconsistencies in them. (…)
My wish is merely to expose what I see as faulty argumentation. (…) The method of
analyzing Buddhist arguments with a view to establishing their coherence and
development is I think largely inherited from the late Professor Frauwallner. (…) we
must remember that most of that work was applied to philosophical texts which were
undoubtedly written and read. I must begin my criticism by reiterating in the strongest
terms that the kind of analysis which can dissect a written philosophical tradition is
inappropriate for oral materials.” 111
Gethin 1997, p. 145: “As Gombrich so rightly says, if we want to discover the
original meaning of the Buddha's discourses we need to understand the intellectual
and cultural pre-suppositions shared by the Buddha and his audience. While in
absolute terms this is an impossible task, since we can never entirely escape our own
intellectual and cultural presuppositions and be reborn in the world of the Buddha -at
least in the short term- we can still surely make some progress in trying to rediscover
that world.”
80
practices of his day, especially those of the educated class who inevitably constituted
most of his audience and following.” (Gombrich 1990 20) His method is somehow
comparative, since “the Buddha's message is to be understood in opposition to the
other articulated ideologies of his day.” (Gombrich 1990 12)
It is true that, nonetheless, Gombrich wants to explain the presence of the
mythical112
in the suttas as Gethin affirms, by finding a contextual justification for
them (be it humor, parody, etc.), and thus cancel their apparent awkwardness and
absurdity. It is also true that perhaps Gombrich is wrong in his historical insistence on
the ‘Buddha’s message’. We agree with Gethin in this.
But what Gethin fails to realize is that he is somehow pursuing a similar goal as
Gombrich with his theory of meditation-aid or proto-visualizations. Both authors are
trying to rescue myth from a de-valuation based on meaninglessness of text, by
recovering a probable lost function for it. While both authors are somehow
preoccupied with the problem of how to re-valuate myth, de-mythologization is the
natural result of their solutions: for Gombrich some myths become meaningful when
they are no longer understood as a myth, but as something else (e.g. a contextual joke,
a parody), while similarly for Gethin a myth becomes meaningful if it acquires an
external (out-of-text) function.
112
Again understood as narratives in position of oddness or incoherence in contrast
with other narratives.
81
In a sense, both authors represent a similar tradition. Their difference is their
interpretative direction: inside or outside the world of the text. Gombrich is looking
for the lost meanings of the text by making it ‘dialogue’ with other contemporary texts,
thus looking for etymological clues inside text(s) that could accuse this relation. A
joke is still something embedded on the narrative after all.
Gethin instead, is trying to answer “what did those who composed it and listened
to it understand by it?” (Gethin 2006 64) This question still remains in the field of
interest of Philology, but the way Gethin relates it to a function involving some kind
of action beyond that purely textual, makes it somehow more ambitious, perhaps
pushing the limits of Philology. Gethin, of course, is also looking for clues inside the
text, but I find his enterprise more difficult and thus necessarily more speculative.
That, however, is not the same as to affirm that Gombrich is closer to the ‘truth.’
But, in terms of interpretation and meaning, it seems that Gombrich is still closer
to a search for meaning inside the text (interpretatio), while Gethin is displacing his
argument beyond the text itself, to a social context of use. How possible is this by
maintaining himself firmly on the grounds of Philology, we are not sure. This is why
he, in contrast to Gombrich, perhaps requires the concept of myth.
In other words, while both authors are following a functional interpretation of
narrative, only Gombrich is still concerned with textual meaning properly speaking,
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for his ‘use’ or function is still textual.
However, for us both authors are wrong in exclusively searching for a value of
myth out of myth, or for valuating myth only in a way in which myth can no longer be
a myth. There is nothing wrong with a functional interpretation, as long as that
interpretation does not hang on the assumption that myth has no other value outside
function. Both authors are finally transforming myth into something else. For this
transformation, Gombrich does not require the concept of myth. The same cannot be
said of Gethin: he needs it to sustain his argument, yet he lacks the proper
methodological tools.
Evidently, Gethin was hoping that he was escaping the difficulties that, according
to him, scholars like Gombrich face un-successfully. In my opinion, while doing so
Gethin does not realize how he has moved away from the problem of meaning in text.
4.6 The Danger of Circularity
Gethin’s problems to avoid some of the problems that he had pointed out may
have something to do with his insufficient theory regarding a definition of myth. This
is a problem that can hardly be avoided, no matter how difficult and unrewarding it
appears at the light of previous efforts. Indeed, Gethin’s lack of a clear and
straightforward definition of myth in relation to narrative stops him from realizing the
83
full extent of the danger of circularity; the problem is not so much in confirming that
myth is alien to Buddhism by re-valuating it into something else (be it a corruption, a
joke, or as Gethin himself do, a proto-visualization), but in the consensual and a-priori
de-valuation of myth, previous to any analysis.
The danger of circularity goes beyond the scholarly play of stratification and
layering of suttas, beyond any decision of what the Buddha might or might not have
possibly said, and beyond the reconstruction of a logic by which what appears
awkward and absurd might be saved as coherent and consistent.
The problem starts (even before any analysis) with our conception of myth itself,
because we use wrong assumptions to actually choose or select that which is myth
from that which is not. We select all those textual portions of the scriptures that
appear awkward, absurd, or illogical (not historically probable) as myth. Then we
affirm that myth is that which we have distinguished, yet we never explain why myth
must indeed be that awkward, absurd, or illogical. We artificially complete the circle:
myth becomes a basket for the odd.
In that way, even in a work where apparently there is no definition of myth, a
concept of myth is already operating (SDM). And while it may be true that there is no
precise consensus about what exactly is myth, there seems to be a suspicious
consensus about what myth actually is not: myth is not truth (TrV). Thus, myth has a
84
consensual definition, even though is a negative one, by opposition. Myth must be
incoherent and inconsistent, awkward and illogical, because it opposes truth.
Both authors, Gethin as well as Gombrich, start from the same premise, and
that’s why their respective thesis are at the same time alternative forms of valuation
for ‘something’ which cannot have value otherwise. Strangely enough, it was perhaps
Gombrich who was nearer in reaching a similar conclusion when he reminds us that
“coherence in these matters is largely in the eye of the beholder.” (Gombrich 1990 11)
Indeed, modern coherence has been the key until now for understanding myth.
This is the problem then; awkwardness, incoherence, these are all subjective
categories. How can we understand myth in particular religious text when our
definition is already prescriptive? How can we interpret myth correctly, when we
already ‘expect’ it to be incoherent and meaningless as myth?
When we start from myth as not truth, we start from an a priori de-valuation.
This de-valuation forces us to somehow reverse this same process. Otherwise,
analysis would be ludicrous: why bother to analyze something worthless from a truth
perspective? Somehow value must be re-covered. Then, alternative forms of valuation
appear for myth, be it as proto meditation, as textual jokes, or as evidence for
historical developments. This is exactly where the field finds itself today. Myth is
material for something else.
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The implied question is in reality this: if myth cannot be truth, then what else can
it be? We affirm that this is the real ‘danger of circularity.’
4.7 Mythical Narrative of the Buddhist Path (MNBP)
Gethin’s tries to support his hypothesis of myth as proto-visualization bringing
forward the narrative contents of the sutta (in a very similar method to the one he used
with the ASu in “Cosmology and Meditation”). But this move could be considered
problematic.
For example, his suggestion that the text can be understood as a mythical
narrative of the Buddhist path (MNBP) could point in the opposite direction of a
function of visualization, towards a narrative interpretation, and it does not fit well
with his argument for the uniqueness of the position of myth in the MSud. We will
explain this point.
By MNBP Gethin understands a metaphor of the ideal Buddhist practice: in the
narrative, one can see actions which correspond orderly to dāna and sīla followed by
bhāvanā (consisting of the practice of samādhi, or samatha, and paññā or vipassanā).
Thus the mythical narrative of the Buddhist path is a narrative of the stages a
Buddhist practitioner must go through.
In his previous article on cosmology, Gethin affirms that the “classic Nikāya
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account of the stages of the Buddhist path is found repeated in various suttas of the
sīlakkhandha-vagga of the Dhīga Nikāya, and also, with slight variations, in several
suttas of the Majjhima Nikāya.”113
Thus we can conclude that it is a repeated motif in
the Nikāyas.
For Gethin the MNBP is another way for bypassing the problem of the value of
myth. In “Cosmology and Meditation” Gethin tried to justify the double presence of
cosmology and the MNBP by arguing that they converged on jhāna,114
Thus, in ASu
Gethin wants to see the contraction of a world-system as a metaphor or parallel of a
meditator's progress through the successive dhyānas. For Gethin this takes the form of
an assimilation of an internal world to an external world. Thus, cosmology is reduced
to psychology.
But, while in principle it could be argued that cosmology and myth are close, it
seems far easier to reduce cosmology as a phenomena to mere doctrine, and thus to
evaluate it as metaphor of a MNBP. In the case of the MSud, Gethin wants to suggest
that it is “basically a narrative of a journey out of this world.” (Gethin 2006 88) And
thus of renunciation, and thus again subsume myth to a metaphor of doctrine. But we
doubt that the procedure can entirely explain the myth in the MSud.
But there is another problem in relation to the concept of myth and this solution.
113
Gethin 1997, p. 201. 114
Gethin 1997, p. 202.
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The concept of a MNBP could contradict the idea that the MSud works in the manner
of visualization. Gethin’s starting argument is that the MSud is special due to its
mythical properties, and needs to be somehow explained in a special way. But when
Gethin suggests that the MSud is a MNBP he is indirectly contradicting the very same
idea.
We cannot affirm of the MSud both things, because they are contradictory; we
cannot say that the MSud is saying the same, in a similar way, than other suttas, while
at the same time defend its uniqueness, strangeness, justifying the giving of it of a
special function.
For, if the presence of the metaphor of MNBP in the sutta is clearly pointing, like
in other suttas of the DN, to a didactic function (stages to follow) why there is still a
need to posit an exceptional function like visualization for the MSud? Independent of
whether the MSud is myth or not, it would seem to communicate the same as other
suttas. Where has its strangeness gone then?
At the same time, the schema of Gethin does not explain properly the
interrelation between the character of the Buddha and that of the king. The king is
after all the Buddha in his previous life. That means that he is, even in that past life, in
a special position. In that sense, the entire text could not be only a simple MNBP,
because its main character is the Buddha. The title is of the sutta itself is pointing to
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this fact. The king is not merely a good meditator, but is the greatest ever. That is why
he is in the position of the perfect king. The text is then dealing with two planes at the
same time, not only with one (MNBP).
4.8 Speculations and philological arguments
Gethin’s argument then rests in the consideration of the MSud as an anomaly.
What about his Philological arguments? Are they strong in that respect, to make the
concept of myth unnecessary for his hypothesis?
There are surprisingly not many. Comparisons with later images in texts are
suggestive, but not particular supportive of the argument. The rest of the Philological
argument lays on the word s ‘māpeti’ and ‘oloketi.’ The word ‘māpeti’ perhaps
support more the idea of visualization, but the problem is that the context in which it
is used somehow also fits the idea of “to cause to appear by supernatural power.”115
The way the Palace of Righteousness appears is completely supernatural. The text
may be emphasizing the over-powers of the king. Thus this goes against the need to
posit visualization or MNBP. It does not need to be referring to visualization.
The case of ‘oloketi’ is less significative in terms of meaning. It has common
occurrences with their normal meaning ‘to see,’ ‘to look at,’ ‘to behold,’ ‘to regard,’
115
We will refer in our next chapter to the supernatural context.
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‘to examine,’ etc.116
Indeed, Gethin is perhaps pushing the argument too far when he
affirms that ‘māpeti’ means ‘(mentally) create’ and ’oloketi’ ‘surveying.’ So again,
while the argument is seductive, the philological evidence is not particularly strong.
Much more interesting is the context in which the verb ‘oloketi’ appears in the
commentary of the MSud. But we will return to this at the end of the next chapter.
4.9 How especially mythical is the Mahāsudassana Sutta?
We have shown that Gethin’s definition of myth has problems. Is our guess that
the author has been pushed towards them due to the lack of a strong theoretical
foundation in a definition of myth, in the disciplines of Buddhist studies and Philology.
We believe we have also proved that these problems are related with the question of
TrV.
The real influence and impact of these problems over the hypothesis of his work
remains a question. But this is beyond the purpose of our work and we will have to
leave the question open. There are, however, a couple of things we can say about it.
An analysis born in the context of a lack of a proper definition of myth replaced
116
See for example Pali Critical Dictionary (begun by v. Trenckner, K. R. Norman ed.).
Vol.II, Fascicle 17. Copenhagen: The Royal Danish Academy of Sciences and Letters,
1990, p. 775. Childers, Robert Caesar. Dictionary of The Pali Language. Kyoto:
Rinsen Book Company, 1976, p. 300. Cone, Margaret. A Dictionary of Pali, Part I.
Oxford: The Pali Text Society, 2001, p. 589-590.
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by an outdated model of myth against truth, together with the lack of deep narrative
analysis of the relation of the suttas, does not appear as a promising way out of
speculation. The combination can only invite speculations that ought to remain
tentatively. But a speculation can be made without calling in the concept of myth.
The biggest problem of Gethin’s argument is not that it may be wrong. In fact,
Gethin may be on the right track. But the problem is how this forces a type of
understanding of myth that leaves out many other narrative phenomena.
The geniality of Gethin’s article remains in the provocative and stimulating
nature of his hypothesis, in the outrageously courageous proposal of it without
definite proofs, and in some well worked secondary and theoretical points, more than
in a certain argument.
For us the biggest problem remains in how can we distinguish a narrative or its
properties as a myth, when we do not know ‘what is myth.’ The whole article of
Gethin depends on the case of uniqueness that he tries to build for the MSud. But it is
exactly this point that remains contested. In fact, in the light of the article’s
deficiencies, it remains probable that the MSud sutta is in the end not as odd or
extraordinary in comparison to other suttas of the Dhīga Nikāya.
Again, the problem is whether, after the article, we know more or less about
myth., and what it is doing in here. The answer seems to be on the negative.
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Chapter V: Outline for a new definition of myth
5.1 Towards a new definition of myth
After what has been said we ought to decide between two options: either we
abandon or avoid the use of the concept of myth, or we somehow try to make a new
definition of myth avoiding the problems that we have pointed out.
The first option seems safer. This is the traditional position that Buddhist studies
has preferred.117
In appearance, there is not really a ‘need’ to talk about myth,
especially when we remain in the field of ‘idealized’ Buddhist doctrine and Buddhist
philosophy. 118
There the concept is not necessary because myth simply should not be
there, in the first place. If there appear phenomena that could be identified as myth, it
is removed as not original. This is the danger of circularity that we already discussed.
Such a position is naturally limiting and restrictive; it does not give importance
to narrative phenomena in the texts beyond doctrine and philosophy. In particular, it
makes harder the understanding of narrative mechanisms of Buddhist literature in
connection with religion and belief, etc.
117
This is the method followed by Gombrich, for example, when analyzing the
Aggañña Sutta. He replaces the category of myth by joke or parody. See Gombrich,
Richard “The Buddha.’s Book of Genesis?” Indo-Iranian Journal 35: 159.–78. 1992. 118
That is, a Buddhism harmonized according to Western rational modern
expectations.
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The second option is more risky, but perhaps more promising for the future of
the discipline. The careful development of a theory of myth for Buddhist studies
(compatible with Philology) could provide many benefits, and perhaps could even
help stop the proliferation of theories originating in other disciplines. However, such
an enterprise must be oriented to narrative theory, because myth is narrative, and not
towards history, philosophy, or doctrine.
As was said at the very beginning, it remains beyond the scope of this work to
give a new full-fledged definition of myth. Our main purpose was to unveil what we
believe are the main problems in the study of myth in Buddhist studies: the
construction of definitions of myth based on interpretations, in a priori SDM, and in
TrV.
We have shown thus the difficulties and obstacles for the success of such an
enterprise. We firmly believe that once the SDM is removed as set of a-priori
assumptions (beyond the consideration of myth as narrative), and at the same time the
construction of new definitions remain away from any form of TrV, and as long as the
question of what is myth is repositioned to the center of the discussions for theories of
myth, better and more effective definitions of myth will be, indeed, possible.
But, following our original propaeudetic intention, we believe that the task we
set at the beginning would appear theoretically weak if we did not to show how this
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could be done through a theoretical model. Thus, we will dedicate our efforts in this
section to build an example model, and outline, so to speak, of how this could be
achieved. Thus, we hope this chapter could be used as a provisory definition that can
suggest a safer direction for future definitions of myth.
In a similar manner, at the end of this chapter we will return to the problem of
the MSud and the question raised by Ruper Gethin, with this model, to corroborate
whether anything new can be learned from it.
5.2 Myth as a narrative system
We may start by asking ourselves, against Robert Segal119
why myth cannot be
studied in itself. Perhaps we should approach the problem of a definition of myth just
in such a manner. That is, instead of starting from other objects or phenomena, which
naturally de-mythologize myth making it a secondary issue, a definition of myth may
well start from a myth in itself perspective. But how can we achieve such goal?
We have often repeated that a theory of myth should first of all be able to answer
the question of what is myth. But this question seems to be often confused with other
questions: what is the meaning of myth? What is the function of myth? Thus, it could
be perhaps useful to explain what kind of questions a definition of myth should not
119
See Segal, p.3.
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pursue to answer.
First, it should not be intending answers of the origins of myth, whether in
historical, psychological, or other terms. The question of origins inevitably takes myth
away from itself, away from narrative, towards the world out of the text, and thus
back into the problem of truth valuation. Also, in practical terms, the question of
origins is perhaps the less grounded on evidence and the more speculative one.
Second, questions of the function, referents, or context of myth are very
important for understanding myths, but secondary to what myth is. We believe that we
must be extremely cautious here: taking these questions in very general, broad, and
abstract terms also leads away from myth.
We are not saying that we reject such approaches. On the contrary, we
understand their usefulness. But we also understand now its dangers. A pursue to
answer the question of function, referents, and contexts, takes us away from myth in
itself, and into history, philosophy, and the comparative method, thus making it more
difficult for us to avoid traps such as the danger of circularity.
There is something more important that the external context of myth. A myth
must always be understood in its proper particular narrative context. We will call this
the interior textual context: a myth is encased, incarnated, in a particular textual body
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(often a text or a group of texts), forming as such a system120
Then, our questions should be of relational character, and these relational
questions should involve internal phenomena and dynamics or movements, instead of
external (out-of-the-text) relations. This is what we mean by myth for itself.
In a similar way it may be wise to abandon the obsession with finding definitions
of myth in the form of monothetic classes.121
In other words, abandon the struggle to
find a definition of myth which will, with its entire list of attributes or characteristics,
fit every single form of the manifestation of myth. Instead, we should find a polythetic
class of definition, strongly based on the careful observation of the phenomena we
deem related with myth, in its particular and concrete manifestations.
Thus we are suggesting a start not from comparisons between different
mythologies, but on the contrary, from specific historical traditions. In that sense,
perhaps, we should abandon here the talk about Buddhist myth, until we have a
clearer picture of the manifestation of its myths in its divergent historical and cultural
traditions. Thus we should talk instead of myth in the DN, or myth in the MSud.
Now, we could put our questions in the following manner: First, and in this
particular context, what kind of narrative is a myth? Second, how does a myth operate,
120
See our comments on canon in our previous chapter. 121
See Southwold, Martin. “Buddhism and the Definition of Religion.” Man, New
Series, Vol. 13.3 Sep (1978): 362-379.
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what does a myth has to do to be a myth in a text.122
The first question could perhaps be answered by bringing forward the
relationship between myth and religion: a myth is always related to narrative(s)
pertaining or connected to a religion. It follows that the first qualifying element or
property of myth as a narrative could be in this relationship. As a type of narrative, a
myth is nothing more and nothing less than a form of religious narrative. As such it is
perhaps a part or sub-group of phenomena included in the broader category of
religious narrative.
The second question has to do with the precise link between myth and narrative
or in other words, whether a myth corresponds in limits to narratives: is a myth the
same as a narrative or it is something else? We will answer this question later.
Before we can continue we need to answer what is a religion. Here, we will have
to use the help of the anthropologist Clifford Geertz, who developed a theory of
religion that is broad enough to be used beyond the constraints of that particular
discipline. According to Clifford Geertz a religion is first of all a “cultural system.”
(Geertz 1969 6) Geertz describes religion with 5 interrelated points. For him, religion
is:
122
This is not a question of origins.
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(1) a system of symbols which acts to (2) establish powerful,
pervasive, and long-lasting moods and motivations in men by
(3) formulating conceptions of a general order of existence
and (4) clothing these conceptions with such an aura of
factuality that (5) the moods and motivations seem uniquely
realistic. (Geertz 1969 4)
We don’t need to go into the details of this theory here. We don’t intend to
define religion but merely want to find some properties or characteristic of it that
could tell us something of narratives in religion.
Now, if we accept Geertz’s definition of religion as a system, then we should
conclude first that religious narratives should be part of a ‘narrative’ sub-system of
religion.
However, in the systemic theory of religion of Geertz we believe we find a
similar problem to the one we found before in Ricoeur’s definition of symbols (see
our chapter 2). Indeed, Geertz, like Ricoeur, overemphasizes the importance and
autonomy of symbols. But when we read again the points 2, 3, and 4, of his 5-point
definition we feel as if Geertz was actually talking about narratives, and maybe even
myths, instead of symbols, for symbols define in these terms, as we explained before,
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require myths.
His definition of symbols also appears too abstract when he affirms for example
that “meanings can only be ‘stored’ in symbols” (Geertz 1973 127) or when he
explains that religion as a cultural system is made of “a cluster of religious symbols,
woven into some sort of ordered whole” (Geertz 1973 129) How can symbols store
meaning? What is the logic and coherence of a cluster of religious symbols? Perhaps
that ordered whole could somehow correspond to narrative and myth?
The question is, like with Ricoeur, if symbols can establish themselves
autonomously, and if it is possible for them to spread, by themselves, ‘meaning
without’ the context of myths; if they can actually spread meaning without the
de-codifying system of myths. It is our opinion that this view is wrong because
symbols depend on, hang on so to speak, from a system of narratives and thus myths.
In any case, the clue to the relation between religion and narrative (which at this
point corresponds to myth) is given by Geertz’s theory in point 2, 3, 4, and 5. It is,
indeed, a theory of religious operation. Religion formulates, establishes, clothes, etc.
In other words, it is a functional theory of religion, but one that remains grounded on
the narrative aspects of religion.
In any case, we should remain away from points 4 and 5, because of their
subjectivity and their tendencies of valuation (‘clothing,’ ‘factuality,’ ‘seem realistic’).
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Point 2 is too strong, and is reductionistic, so we will remain away from it too. We do
this because we have to avoid TrV; we already know that any kind of inclination
towards function leads towards TrV.
Point 1 should also be changed, following our criticism of Ricoeur’s theory of
symbols, to ‘a system of narrative(s).’ Thus, point number 2 is answering the question
for the relationship between religion and narrative(s).
(1) a system of religious narratives or myths (one or more)
which123
(2) formulate conceptions of a general order of existence.
By “formulate conceptions of general order of existence” we will understand
‘direction’ towards certain kind of actions, preferences, and inclinations in relation to
a way of life or certain forms of perspectives in the manner of understanding the
world and men position in it. In other words religion, in relation to narrative, is a
system that describes or explain the world and at the same time re-positions men in it.
Then to the question of “how religion formulates conceptions of a general order
of existence” the answer could come naturally: by a narrative system. Without
123
Here we are just assuming that religious narratives and myths are equivalent, or
the same thing, but we will return to this point.
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religious narratives, religion would not be able to formulate conceptions of a general
order of existence. Then, a religious system needs for its survival the sub-system of
religious narrative(s).
What are the mechanisms by which religious narrative formulates these
conceptions? We suspect that this has to do with myth properly. The relation between
myth and the world of ideology have often been pointed out by scholars of myth,
although in rather cryptic and un-precise words.124
Now, before we can continue to answer this question, it is pertinent to define
further the boundaries of myth. We have to return to our second question of whether a
religious narrative corresponds exactly to myth. Is any religious narrative a myth?
Here is time to go to the narrative phenomena itself.
When we observe Buddhist narratives in the DN we realize that a myth cannot be
equivalent to a narrative. An example will be enough: the framing of the MSud.125
It
is clear that the MSud is a narrative inside a narrative. In that case, it is impossible to
defend that, if the tale of the king Sudasanna is a myth, then the framing is also part of
124
Slochower, for example, describes myth as a ‘pictorial hypothesis’ about the
nature of man, and affirms that “myth addresses itself to the problem of identity,
asking ‘who am I?’ (…), ‘Where do I come from?’, ‘Where am I bound?’, and ‘What
must I do now to get there?’ (Slochower 15). But we have to move very carefully here,
for TrV easily appears when taking about functions of myth. For a clear example,
King 211: “Myth represents an actionable orientation to truth and reality; i.e., the
mythical approach invites its user to participate in active personal relationships with
the mythically grasped truth or value. When pertaining to one's own faith, it contains
intrinsic emotional involvement and volitional potential. It is then no longer mere
myth.” 125
We will return to this framing later.
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that myth. The entire MSud then cannot be a myth. But then, is the entire
sub-narrative of the MSud (the tale of the king’s death) a myth properly speaking?
‘What is myth’? At this point we need further theoretical help.
5.3 Secular literature and myth
In The Secular Scripture: A Study of The Structure of Romance.126
Northrop Frye
expands on the problem of the relationship and distinction of romance and myth, and
thus between secular and religious literature.
The thesis of this work is that in every human society there is a double literary
tradition. One of these traditions holds the prominent place because it deals with those
things that predominantly concern that society, while the other one mainly entertains
(romance). The important narratives “help explain certain features in that society’s
religion, law, social structure, environment, history, or cosmology.” He identifies this
tradition with myths.
According to Frye, the more important stories are imaginative, but that is not
their main characteristic. They convey something like ‘special knowledge,’ what in
religion is often called revelation. Hence they are normally not thought of as
imaginative or even of human origin. (Frye 1976 6)
126
Frye, Northrop. The Secular Scripture: A Study of the Structure of Romance. USA:
Harvard University Press, 1976.
102
Frye also mentions that myths stick together to form a mythology127
impelled by
this special knowledge they transmit. (Frye 1976 12) Thus mythologies are structures
of belief or social concern. And according to Frye, it is the structure of myths that
makes the process possible. “A mythological universe is a vision of reality in terms of
human concerns and hopes and anxieties.” (Frye 1976 14)
There are some important insights here. First, Frye seems to understand myths as
synonymous to religious narratives. But, because of what we said before of the MSud
it would be better to consider them as not corresponding to the same kind of
phenomena. What give myths their distinction in contrast to other narratives would be
that they are narratives units of ‘special knowledge.’ But then we would have to
accept that there are different types of religious narratives, only some communicating
‘special knowledge,’ only some then would be myths.
127
A good example of how the content of a narrative should not be equated with
myth is in the narrative of Barlaam and Josaphat. The narrative was originally about
Buddha, yet it was transformed to suit the needs of the Christian myth. The core of the
narrative (defense of asceticism) is still the same. But the myth is completely different.
Frye 1976, 10: “The fact that myths stick together to form a mythology is clearly
shown in an explicitly Christian story, such as the Barlaam and Josaphat romance,
which comes from about the eighth century. This is said to be a Christianized version
of the story of the Buddha, though there is hardly enough story for many specific
parallels to emerge. Prince Josaphat is kept in seclusion by his father, who hates
Christianity: the hermit Barlaam gets through to see him on the pretext that he has a
precious jewel to show him. The jewel turns out to be an interminable sermon in
which Barlaam sets forth the entire structure of Christian mythology from creation to
last judgment, with appendices on the ascetic life, the use of images in ritual, the
necessity of baptism, and the doctrine of the two natures of Christ. What makes so
long a harangue possible-its plausibility is another matter-is simply the
interconnection of the individual myths in the total Christian mythology: every
concept or doctrine involves all others (…).”
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What we want to suggest is this: myths are encased in narratives, but are not
equivalents to religious narratives themselves. They would be the mechanism by
which religious narrative ‘formulates.’
But what are they then? Following the conception of units of ‘special knowledge’
we could speculate that they are more like special narrative units that carry, and only
carry this ‘special knowledge.’ Consequently, they would be smaller than normal
narratives because they have to be simple and precise to carry this ‘special
knowledge’ (perhaps with less narrative details). But, at the same time, because this
‘special knowledge’ is more important than the ‘normal knowledge’ of other religious
narratives they could gather together, across different narratives, to form bigger units
pertaining to that ‘special knowledge.’
To prove this we need to find a way to identify them.
5.4 Frye’s Theory of Myths
We can find help again in Frye’s insights, this time in his most influential and
important work: the Anatomy of Criticism (AoC).128
In it, the author presents four
different methods to approach the analysis of literature. One of these methods is
called ‘Theory of Myths,’ which provides a model that we can modify and use to
128
Frye, Northrop. Anatomy of Criticism: Four Essays. New Jersey: Princeton
University Press, 1957.
104
identify myth.
In AoC Frye pursues the idea that the structure of myths provides the basis of a
typology for literature, and thus the foundation for a concept of order for literary
analysis. (Frye 1957 66) Thus in AoC myth is presented as the origin-model for every
form of secular literature.
Frye is only interested in presenting a typology for secular literature. Thus myth
or religious literature has only a secondary theoretical importance in AoC. However,
because in the AoC the Bible is constantly referenced as a common example for
different mythos, the model can operate backwards also with religious literature.
Contrary to what anyone would expect by reading its title, however, this theory
is not properly speaking a theory of myths, but rather a theory of the dynamics of
narratives, a theory for the system of myths in secular fiction. Thus, the so called
Theory of Myths is rather a systemic method for approaching literature from the
perspective of myths.
The purpose of the Theory of Myth is for classification. While it was not made
for religious narratives, it is in design broad enough to allow the classification of
myths, and in fact Frye used it in that way for the Bible several times. Our idea is to
modify it so we can use it first to locate myth in a narrative like the MSud, and thus to
somehow illuminate the process of classification of Buddhist texts.
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Frye’s Theory of Myths starts with his considerations of the tension between the
dichotomy lifelikeness or verisimilitude (what we sometimes call mimesis, or realism)
and stylization (which involves structural emphasis, abstraction, and
conventionalization), somehow corresponding to the content/subject and
form/structure dichotomy. Thus, at the extremes of his paradigm, Frye places
naturalism and myth. These are the two main forces at work in literature: the
displacement of structure into human direction (content/realism) or to conventionalize
content in an idealized direction (form/myth).
He explains that “in terms of narrative, myth is the imitation of actions near or at
the conceivable limits of desire.” (Frye 1957 136) For Frye, in myth we see the same
structural principles as in realism, but while in myth they are isolated (pure), in
realism they are fit into a context of plausibility. Between the two extremes of literary
design, lays the whole area of romance, or literature properly speaking.
For Frye there are four types of categories of literature or generic plots that are
broader than or prior to literary genres. Frye calls them mythos (plural mythoi). Thus
each mythos corresponds to a different season and to a different type of literature type
(spring-comedy, summer-romance, autumn-tragedy, and winter-irony).
The theory of myths is a general typological model of narratives. It is basically
composed of a structure of four main divisions or parts (see below Table 3). Each of
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these four parts corresponds to a type of narrative. The system is made to represent
the movement upwards (comedy) towards idealization/desire (romance), and the
movement downwards (tragedy), towards experience/aversion (irony).
Table 3 Frye’s System of Mythos
Romance is related to the sphere of desire, where the individual has greater
attributes or power than normal humans, and thus has some level of control of nature
that other men lack. Irony is related to aversion, and in it the individual finds itself
ridiculed, powerless and defenseless against the world.
Tragedy is coordinated with the movement away from desire towards aversion,
the inevitable fall of man in front of forces stronger than him, while comedy is
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coordinated with the movement away from aversion towards desire, normally
representing the struggle within society between two factions –often the old and the
young- and the re-harmonization into a new ideal society.
Table 4 Stylization and Mimesis
Frye relates the pole of desire and aversion with stylization and mimesis (see
Table 4). Thus, more stylization in a narrative would go in hand with a movement
upwards towards idealization, and a displacement towards realism implies a fall into
aversion. Myths are placed on the apex of the model, because they traditionally
possess (according to Frye) high levels of stylization, and their characters move in the
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plane of absolute desire (their powers excel ours and the laws of nature).
Similarly, comedy and tragedy are connected with the pole of society and
individuality respectively. Thus, if the narrative concentrates on the individual
struggles the movement will be towards tragedy, and if it does on the community
struggles the movement will be towards comedy (see Table 4). One has to imagine the
four categories as somehow interrelated or permeable in their boundaries, and so not
as clear cut definitions.
All these concepts may appear daunting and ambiguous for our purposes, and the
way Frye exemplifies them is indeed often confusing. So we need to simplify this
schema for our use. We will first ignore the seasonal symbolic value of the model
(and its clockwise ‘natural’ movement). We will retain the poles of aversion (down)
and desire (up), while tragedy will still mean the motion towards aversion and
comedy towards desire. But obviously we will not be connecting the categories with
particular forms of literature.
A criticism that we will have to face somehow is that the system of the Theory of
Myths was created for the study of the Western literary tradition, and this could be
problematic when trying to apply it, for example, to Buddhist narratives. This is true,
but one should not forget that Frye’s system started from the presumptions that myth
is the first model of every literature, and thus it has, at least theoretically, a universal
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applicability.
The first thing to notice in relation to this is the connection between myth and
stylization in Frye’s model. Myth appears connected with the field of desire.
Obviously, Frye has in mind the absolute power of the Western God/gods to control
or surpass the normal laws of nature. But the placing of myth up beyond romance
(Table 4) should not be taken for granted, as it contradicts some examples where Frye
places the myth of Jesus near Tragedy or even Irony. Myth permeates all four sections
equally.
There is another problem to be faced. First is the position of mimesis and irony
downwards, and their relation to aversion. An increase in realism and in irony do tend
to go in the direction of aversion (I am thinking here of the insistence, on some
Buddhist scriptures, on the reality of death and decay). But to put them downwards
would not sit well with the idea of realism of Buddhism, which is empirical and
factual, not necessarily (at least not always) negative towards the world.
At the same time, Buddhist scriptures can be ironic about the dimension of
desires and pleasure (exactly like in the MSud), forcing a change of the paradigm. We
have to bear in mind here the criticism of Frye’s model by Todorov,129
who was
concerned that the model was not open to every possible theoretical combination,
129
Todorov, Tzvetan. The Fantastic A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre. Trans.
Richard Howard. New York: Cornell university Press, 1975.
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only to combinations that where observable then (in the literary tradition of the West),
and thus that the model was not theoretical but prescriptive. We take this criticism
seriously, because if Buddhist scriptures are different, we need a bigger range of
flexibility. We need the model to be fully theoretical.
Also, we believe that the pole of stylization and mimesis in the same direction of
desire and aversion may have perhaps something to do with TrV in myth. Although
Frye insists that literature is not about truth,130
stylization and mimesis tied to desire
and aversion seem rather arbitrary.
Table 5 Unbalanced Model
Additionally, as we mentioned before, Frye connects myth almost exclusively
with the realm of desire, but then this leaves us the problem of what to do with
130
Frye 1976, 13: “(…) imaginative structures as such are independent of belief, and
it makes no difference to the structure whether the implied beliefs are real, pretended,
or denounced as demonic (…).
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narratives that point towards aversion (like the travels to hell, etc.) without been ironic.
And if hell is ‘below’ in the model, how can we connect it with stylization (see Table
5).
The first important change for the use of the model in religious narratives and the
identification of myth would be to make the representation of the theoretical
boundaries between the world and the otherworld balanced and visible. With this we
also solve the problem of hell and irony (see Table 6).
Table 6 Re-Balancing the Model
The second change is related to the representational location of mimesis and
stylization. We don’t want them in the same pole as desire and aversion. Since we
have distinguished now the World of man as inside or surrounded by the ‘beyond’ of
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the supernatural world, it is just natural for us to posit an increase in stylization
moving towards the outer border of the Other-worldness. But some forms of
stylization can still be found inside the World sphere, although they will be fewer. The
inverse can be said of mimesis. And increase of stylization in a sutta should indicate
an emphasis in the Other-worldness, while an increase in mimesis would be indicating
a concern in the affairs or situation of this World (see Table 7)
Table 7 Mimesis and Stylization
Our finished model would then have a central part or disk of World-likeness is
placed. By this we mean the space of narratives with mimetic properties. The main
characteristic of it is more mimesis and less stylization. At the outer boundaries of it
lays the forces of the movements down and upwards, towards desire and aversion, as
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well as the poles of the individual and society. Nearer the hypothetical core of the disk
of the world would be less movement and action, and perhaps more description.
Surrounding this first disk is the ‘sphere of secular narrative,’ because generally,
literary fiction will roughly correspond to this sphere (see Table 8).
Surrounding the Disk of the World there is a second disk, which we named the
disk of myth. It is divided into two different colors, representing the antagonistic
forces of desire and aversion. In the section of the disk near desire typical
non-complex myths (like the Greek myths, etc.) could be placed.
Table 8 Entire Narrative Model
The entire model has to be imagined as enclosed by a sphere that corresponds to
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the totality of possibilities of narratives. From the plane of the disks upwards, we will
find complex narratives (with many plots, characters, actions, etc.). This is marked by
‘Narrative +.’ From the disks towards below, the opposite is implied. It corresponds to
those narratives that are simpler (list of words, ideas, simple dialogues, etc., like that
find in Abhidhamma literature). They are marked logically like ‘Narrative –.’
The model is pointing to our idea that myth can be found not only in the Disk of
Myth, but actually in any place in the system of narrative. Traditionally, we are used
to relate myth with just a zone of the narrative model. We are unable to see it
operating in other zones.
But since myth is embedded in religious narratives, and these can move across
the model, decreasing in stylization but increasing in mimesis, decreasing or
increasing in narrative, going from aversion to desire, etc., it follows that myth can
potentially be everywhere in the model.
Frye never really intended his model as a static system. He insisted that it was
made to capture the dynamics of narratives. For Frye, every narrative was in reality a
lose combination of the four mythos. A scholar was supposed to use the method to
observe movements, tendencies, displacements, and relationships. And it is in this
way that the system really blooms.
It rests now to show to how it can be used to identify myths.
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5.5 Narrative Details of the MSud
We have our model ready. Before we can identify myth with it in the MSud, we
need to pay attention to some of the most relevant narrative details of the scripture.
5.5.1 Summary of the sutta
The sutta starts with the Buddha in Kusinara, in the Upavattana grove, between
the twin sala trees, just at the time of his death. Ananda goes to his side to protest that
the Buddha cannot die in such a miserable and insignificant town, in the middle of the
jungle. He wants the Buddha to die in a big city, where the remains of the Buddha
could be properly honored.
Not surprisingly, the Buddha rebukes Ananda. He further corrects his ignorance
by informing him that in the past, in that same spot, there was a great royal city,
Kusavati, which was governed by the great king Mahā-Sudassana.
The sutta then moves to the description of the marvels of the great royal city,
composed of seven concentric circles, beautifully and richly adorned by all sort of
objects. Similarly, the king possessed seven precious gifts: the Treasure of the Wheel
(with which he extended his power conquering neighboring kingdoms), the Elephant
treasure, the Horse Treasure, the Gem-Treasure, the Woman-Treasure, the Wonderful
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Treasurer, the Wonderful Adviser. Likewise, Mahā-Sudassana, he possessed Four
Marvelous Gifts (handsomeness, long life, freedom of disease, beloved and popular
with priests and laymen.
The sutta then describes how Mahā-Sudassana devoted to the beautification of
his city, dedicating at the same time his efforts to the construction of hospices, an
other such buildings for the benefit of the poor and dispossessed. Seeing his
generosity, his people wanted to give him wealth, which he refused. They then decide
to build a mansion for him.
Sakka the king of the gods, similarly decide to build him a divine mansion,
called Righteousness. The king proceeds to complete the marvelous structure. Once it
is ready, he enters into it. While in the Great Complex, he decides to renounce lust,
ill-will, and hatred, putting away all passions and unrighteousness. He subsequently
enters into a sequence of raptures.
But after many thousand years, the Queen of Glory decides to pay him a visit.
Bothered by the noise, he wait her outside, under the grove trees. Seeing him the
queen realizes that the king might be dying. Thus she tries to awaken desire for his
possessions in him. Yet the king rebukes her, arguing that her words are unpleasant,
disagreeable, not to be desired.
When the Queen ask him for the proper way to address him, he tell her to repeat
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to him phrases such as “do not pass away with longing in your heart,” and “sad is the
death of him who dies longing,” etc. One by one the Queen helped him to cast away
desire for his royal possessions, while crying. Then the king died.
The Buddha then tells how after his death the king came to life again in a
sequence of happy rebirths, finally entering the world of Brahma. The Buddha confess
to Ananda that he was the great king Mahā-Sudassana. Thus the Buddha explains to
Ananda how all things are transitory, impermanent, and untrustworthy.
The Buddha finishes by recalling how in that same spot he has been buried six
times before, and how as Mahā-Sudassana he was buried a seventh. And after this
eight time, the Buddha will no longer come back again.
5.5.2 Framing
Although Gethin talks about the textual relation between the MSud and the MPar,
he has ignored the importance of this relation for an analysis of the MSud.
The MSud is, in fact, a narrative inside a narrative, even when extirpated from its
hypothetical original ‘framing’ in the MP. At the beginning and at the end of it we find
a conversation between the Buddha and Ananda that frame the story of the king
Sudassana.
In the beginning portion Ananda is trying to convince the Buddha that it is not fit
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for him to die in a small insignificant town, and thus communicating his anxieties in
the matter (probably representing the anxieties of the tradition). Ananda, it must be
said, is not only concerned about the importance of the place of the death of his
teacher. He also shows concern of practical funerary matters.131
In a sort of rebuke, the Buddha replies that this insignificant town was not so
before. It was a great city, Kusavati, its king was Sudassana.
In the ending portion, after the Buddha has finished relating the death of the king,
he affirms that he was in fact the king in his past life. As a conclusion, Ananda should
understand by this that all the possessions that the Buddha had at the time were finally
impermanent, doubly so because at death they were left behind, and now they were
not visible there anymore. But, in this ending frame the Buddha also explains that was
his sixth death, and after this new one, he will never be reborn again.
Although the framing is not ‘mythical’ in the terms of Gethin (and there is no
stylization in terms of Frye) and is rather real-like (mimetic), it is not taken as an
important clue for its historical importance due to what the Buddha is affirming. But,
one wonders why the tradition behind the development of the MSud would have made
131
Dialogues of The Buddha II, 200: “Let not the Exalted One die in this little
wattle-and-daub town, in this town in the midst of the jungle, in this branch township.
For, lord, there are other great cities, such as Champa, Rajagaha, Savatthi, Saketa,
Kosambi, and Benares. Let the Exalted One die in one of them. There there are many
wealthy nobles and brahmins and heads of houses, believers in the Tathagata, who
will pay due honour to the remains of the Tathagata.”
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the connection between the great king and the Buddha if there was no insinuation of it
in the original ‘pure’ story.
Be as it may, the important point is that the framing is an integral part of the
narrative, and should be taken as saying something important about the sutta. The
framing, in other words, should not be used as a mere confirmation of the mythical
properties of the MSud, but as a clue of the seriousness of what is been said, and also,
that it is saying first, something about the Buddha.
5.5.3 Duality Buddha/Practitioner
When Gethin follows the idea of a MNBP he seems to ignore a soft tension in
the text. The King is not any character. He is the Buddha, before becoming the
Buddha, and thus the MSud is describing his last life/death previous to this. That
previous life must have prepared him for enlightenment in the last one.
Gethin suggests that for the MNBP the most important element is meditation.
But meditation is something that the Buddha himself ought to do continually even in
this life, so this makes the other attainments of the Buddha in the past (like been a
great generous and wise king) to have more relevance for enlightenment in this life.132
In the MSud meditation only comes after the Buddha has carried a glorious life as a
132
Thus connecting the MSud with the ideal of the Boddhisattva.
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king.
The achievements of the king in the MSud are not really oriented towards
aversion. They are not shown negatively, but more like a necessary process for the
kingly status, in preparation for the life as Buddha that awaits him in the future. The
entire chain of his actions appears as almost consecrated.
This is a very special and important matter. The MSud cannot be a mere didactic
metaphor or description of the ideal Buddhist practitioner. It must have been
obviously meaningful as a detail or record of the Buddha’s last life before. It was in a
sense his last step before becoming a Buddha.
Thus, if we chose to accept Gethin’s MNBP portraying an idealized Buddhist
path, we have to accept at the same time that the MSud is also showing the previous
exceptional life of the great teacher. In other words, there is an interesting and perhaps
conflicting duality in the scripture, between the king been extremely exceptional and
thus having meaningful actions, and his meditation practices representing any
Buddhist practitioner of meditation, which connect better with the idea of
impermanence apparently defended in the sutta.
Both appear contradictory, especially if we consider the MNBP. If we take the
MSud as an example of the Buddhist path, then the actions of the King appear, from a
narrative perspective, rather pointless. His actions are not purely generous, in a
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Buddhist moral sense. He has beautified his realm. And at the end he must abandon
the materiality which he has centered as his kingly activities. But it is not so if we
remember that the king will be the Buddha.
We would dare to suggest that the MNBP is actually a stock description that is
secondary in importance to the main narrative of the king. Just a detail of what he
does in the Palace of Righteousness, important, but not as important as the entire
narrative of his life. It must be remembered how at the start of the sutta he is already
famous for been wise and consulted by others. So somehow his perfection does not
hang from meditation.
In our view the MNBP is just a necessary step for the king to be able in the end,
to die without lusting desires. Gethin again provides the clue for this when he affirms
in “Cosmology and Meditation” that the MNBP is repeated in several other scriptures.
Thus, this would not be the unique core of the MSud.
Again, the importance of this sutta is in the fact that the king is not any
practitioner, but the Buddha himself.
5.5.4 Repetitiveness?
Gethin has given great importance to the fact of the repetitiveness of the details
in the MSud. Using the model of Frye, however, we find it necessary to do the
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opposite: rest relevance to it.
First is important to ask, why the repetitiveness? To answer, we need to focus
again on the text. What is the text saying when repetitiveness appears?
Gethin would want to somehow relate the repetitiveness with what he called the
MNBP, and more properly with the function of kasiṇa in meditation (especially
because of the colors). The commentary, according to Gethin, clearly recognizes the
meditation process that the king is going through when entering, and in the Palace of
Righteousness. But, this does not mean the commentary supports a hypothetical use of
the text itself for that.
While it is true that there might be some validity in the argument, we believe that
it does not explain properly why the author(s) of the sutta chose the entire city for that
schema, even in some of its insignificant details. If the Palace of Righteousness is
more properly connected with meditation why he/they did not save repetitiveness for
the moment when the king was actually doing that. In other words, why use
repetitiveness in the description of the city itself when it is not representing the inner
world of meditation, but the outside world of the senses?
Why did the author(s) choose to put all the narrative of the King Suddasanna
under the effects of repetition (and additionally the ending frame where the
possessions are listed by the Buddha himself as been his in the past)? The
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repetitiveness in the ending frame is also part of the meditation? And if it is like
Gethin says, why did the author connect repetitiveness with meditation-visualization
in this text in the first place? These questions cannot be replied with Gethin’s
perspective.
But, following our model we don’t require this jump. Repetitiveness is simply a
form or method of stylization. And stylization is always related with a movement
beyond the world of man, normally a transcendent or supernatural world, or a world
of just different rules from our daily one.
Now, where is the supernatural world here? Simple: in the past. The past life of
the Buddha (when he was king) appears as a space beyond the world. A place that is
no longer accessible by normal ways of cognition. It can still be reachable, but only
through unconventional ways (like observation of the past through meditation).
Strangely, Buddhaghosa’s commentary, as quoted by Gethin, would better support this
idea rather than Gethin’s own.
The elders have different views about how the city, and the configuration of its
walls is seen in ‘perspective,’ and Buddhaghosa, as he usually does, let all the
conflicting views there to be expressed evenly. We can assume that the views are
probably not just ‘opinions’ based on hearsay, but are probably based on some form of
cognition of the city of Kusavati. Thus this implies that the text was taken seriously,
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as real (at least in the older tradition), but not fundamentally as a metaphor of
meditation of the MNBP, as Gethin’s would like to believe, but as a sort of imprint,
guide, or visual map, to factually observe the wonderful city in the past. The MSud
would not be a metaphor of Buddhist practice, but more like a mental picture, which
one can use to corroborate the wonders of the last-last life and death of the Buddha,
just before he was born to be enlightened.
Thus it would seem probable that stylization is used here to increase the
sensation of the marvelous, to distinguish this particular discourse/space (Kusavati,
previous past life of the Buddha) from normal discourse (this time, last life of the
Buddha).
In that sense stylization here (in the form of repetition) is just another narrative
mechanism that myth can use for its purposes, but it is not in anyway a defining
aspect of what is myth.
5.5.5 Death
The movement of the narrative itself, it must be said, turns around death. So
death is the first point we can use to position a probable myth.
There is an initial movement towards aversion of death. The queen and Ananda
represent the same type of character, in this sense. They are somehow working as
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unwillingly tempters or opponents of a good death. They are asking the dying
king/Buddha character to pay attention to matters that are, in the view of the sutta, to
be averted.
The Queen reminds the King of his possessions. Ananda worries the Buddha
about funerary honors, and the dignity that he will not receive by not dying in a better
place.
Thus we can easily establish two opposite movements. One is the ‘this world’
view represented by the Queen and Ananda, identified very warmly as the loving and
painful concern for the dying character. This, the text may be suggesting is the attitude
that the reader or listener of the sutta will normally have. Apparently it is a movement
oriented to desire, because it is born of preoccupation and caring, something we
normally like to be given by those around us.
The sutta, then, changes the initial orientation of the movement radically, and
makes what was desire into aversion, and what is aversion into desire. This kind of
concern for the dying king/Buddha, reflected in the Queen and Ananda, should be
avoided. The MSud invites to a warmly correction. Thus, what it was desirable for us,
becomes something dangerous, to be averted, because it does not help the dying in
leaving desires at the moment of death.
But the Queen and Ananda are not only interrupting any moment. They are doing
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so in an essential moment: in death. Death appears not as a violent moment of
struggle, but as a peaceful opportunity for rapid improvement.
Also death is not presented as a process that the individual must go through alone.
It seems to be a process that requires company. Thus, is a process of opportunity for
the dying, as well as for the wife and the disciple. The King somehow asks the Queen
for help, when he instruct her with what she should say to him. This instruction may
be taken as a help (lesson) for her. The same is the case of Ananda, who receives a
corrective lesson initiated by his comments.
Thus, through this new positioning the reader (us) is told where he stands in
relation to the moment of death, and with a subtle criticism it re-orients the reader to
the opposite direction, changing the values, towards what direction he should be
moving from now on.
What was a normal response based on love and desire is no longer such. The
sutta seems to be saying “if you care about death, let the dying die a good death
without pulling him/her towards desire. Help him.” Or “if you care about death strive
to die without desires. Help yourself.”
Thus, the text suggests a repositioning for the reader. This is where the myth
should be searched.
At the center lays death. And the idea that during death someone must die
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without desires, to, either get a better next life closer to achieving the Buddhist goal,
or perhaps a time in heaven. However, we have to also remember that this in not any
death but the previous death of the Buddha himself.
5.5.6 Impermanence
In the MSud impermanence is affirmed. However, this impermanence is not
really presented in terms of aversion, and it becomes necessary only when death is
near. The king has dedicated his life to grandiosity, generosity, and beauty. The MSud
gives the strange and contradictory impression that this grandiosity of material
achievements is somehow necessary part of the attainment of the highest level as a
human, just prior to achieving enlightenment. Thus the Buddha affirms that the things
are impermanent, but it is as if the grandiosity of the things he did in his past life are
transformed in him. Thus materiality has some form of transformative value, which
remains with the individual (the King Sudassana), to his next life.
One can not do more than remember here Schopen’s suggestions in relation to
the connection between ‘monks’ and the possession of money. Is then the message of
the MSud (in terms of impermanence) like this because of the sutta’s original
audience were people of important economic power? Was this sutta originally
produced with Buddhist kings, merchants, or rich monks in mind? We can not say for
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sure, but the idea may deserve further investigation.
5.6 Positioning
Until here, we have been talking about the MSud narrative. We have said nothing
of its myth. Now is time for us to use the model adapted from Northrop Frye, to
identify it in the sutta.
First, we should give a provisory definition in accordance to what we have
learned preparing the model:
Provisory definition: A myth is a special narrative unit, which places the reader
in a position in relation to an aspect of the world, saying something about it.
We will use two concepts for identifying this type of unit: positioning and
movement.
Positioning will refer to the placing of the reader, by the text, in some form of
relation to an aspect of the world.
Movement will be relating this unit with the four poles of the model:
Desire/Aversion, and Individual/Society.
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Following the movements for orientation between desire and aversion, and the
individual and society, and the positioning of the reader, we can conclude that this
narrative possess more than one myth. This are:
a. The Myth of the Buddha
In his last past life before enlightenment, the Buddha was a great king, who did a
marvelous city, had many possessions, and who, just before death, renounced
everything. That was his 7th time to be reborn, and after the 8th as the Buddha he will
never be reborn again.
Positioning: The myth is suggesting the high hierarchy and status of the Buddha,
because he was a great king, he is now not only comparable, but superior to a king.
Thus the myth is asking the reader to put the Buddha in the highest position of the
realm of the humans. It is also indirectly opening a similar road for the reader. The
reader can follow 2 (when his death come), or follow the Buddha now, since, after
such a glorious life, he chose to be an ascetic, indicating that this must be even better
a life than that of a king. Or, perhaps, the reader could imitate the Buddha and
dedicate his life to generosity and beautification of its environment. Isn’t it here
perhaps an invitation to those who have money (kings, merchants, monks), to have
generosity, and only renounce things at the end of life?
Movement: Towards desire, the Buddha appears as the pinnacle of status, and
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towards society133
and its harmony, when putting emphasis on generosity and artistic
beautification and adornment of the environment, as a supreme king.
b. The Myth of the Good Death
There is the impression that the king (like later the Buddha) willingly died, suggesting
that he had the ability to escape death, since the Queen is asking him to do exactly this
(similarly as how the Buddha’s death is portrayed as something avoidable in the
MPar). But just like the Buddha rebukes Ananda for his ‘material’ concerns, the
Queen is rebuked by the wise King. The one around the dying should support his
struggle for renouncing things, not block it. With the successful renouncing at death,
great benefit is achieved.
Positioning: Death is seen almost as in the field of desire (as something controllable
and acceptable). It is not only natural, but acceptable. Those who reject death are
presented in relation to aversion. The king died, the Buddha will die, but there is no
expression of aversion or anguish in the MSud towards dead (only those of the Queen
and Ananda, which are shown to be not desirable). The myth is suggesting that in
death there is opportunity for advancement on those dying, as well as on those
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In Frye’s terms, towards a new society.
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observing the dying.
Movement: Towards desire, and harmony with those around (society).
c. The Myth of the Impermanence of Things
It is not good to cling to things when dying. The king Sudassana had it all, but still
renounced all at the time of death. The king is greatly exalted for his material
achievements during the entire sutta. The renouncing happens only at the end of his
life. The Buddha also argues for the impermanence of all things with Ananda. The
idea of the impermanence of things is strengthened by the fact that Kusavati is long
gone.
Positioning: It is ambiguous. Things are proclaimed impermanent, but appear as
important and magnificent as well. It does not appear that the MSud can be
considered to be making a strong argument against things, or the early renouncing of
things, in any case. The king has decided to renounce everything just before death,
and this is strange. It could be argued as the result of meditation. Be as it may, it is
obviously not the same as to renounce in death than during lifetime. Indeed, the myth
seems to be reluctant to talk about renouncing the material during lifetime. Either it is
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worried to disturb its reader, or it is formed in the belief that things must be indeed
renounced near death (old age?), and not too long before. It could be that this myth is
putting a patron, through generosity, in a position closer to the Buddha before his last
birth, and thus making a call for donations.
Movement: Ambiguous, both towards desire and aversion. There is emphasis on the
individual, pointing to the greatness of the material achievements of the king, and at
the same time to the importance of renouncing material things before death.
There is a complementary coordination between these three myths. They are
related and connected. But in their present form, in their brevity and lack of
development or sophistication, they appear as incomplete. They require to be
completed with similar special narrative units (myths) from other scriptures of the DN.
Thus we can make another hypothesis.
Hypothesis (Alternative Definition of Myth):
These special narrative units are perhaps too small. They may be parts of a
bigger unit, which could be the actual myth. Thus, for example, the entirety of the
small special units pertaining to what we called the Myth of Good Death would in
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reality form the True Buddhist Myth of (Good) Death. In this sense we will have here
only parts of myths, fragments, so to speak, and we would need to complete them
with those fragments from other scriptures.
But if our previous definition was correct, and these are indeed complete myths,
then:
Final Provisory Definition:
1. A myth is a special narrative unit, which places the reader in a position in relation
to an aspect of the world, saying something about it.
2. It is usually smaller than a narrative, and can share its place with others similar to it
in the same narrative (thus in one narrative there can be many).
3. They may, with other similar special units or myths, form part of a bigger system,
which would finally correspond to the entire mythology of a particular textual
tradition of a religion.
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Chapter VI: Conclusions
6.1 Confirmation of SDM and its TrV
We have traced the problem of a definition of myth in three phases: the first one,
in general theories of myth, outside the boundaries of Buddhism; the second one, in
the general use of the concept in the discipline of Buddhist studies; the third one in a
particular work, itself dealing directly with the problem of myth in a Buddhist
scripture. In all these phases, we have identified a negative valuation of myth in terms
of truth (TrV), coming from the unrecognized previous acceptance of a standard
definition of myth (SDM).
We believe we have demonstrated that, in all three phases the panorama is the
same: definitions of the concept are problematic. But our point is not that definitions
designed are faulty. The problem with them is that they start from a SDM, carrying a
default form of TrV. Furthermore, they are not constructed based on observations of
narratives, but on their own interpretations based on a SDM. Thus the problem is how
they were constructed backwards, not from observed phenomena, or objects, but from
the requirements of interpretation.
The question remains open as to how much their results are affected by such
problems. But we contend that as theories they fail in their universal applicability.
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They cannot, finally, explain ‘what is myth’ because they cannot distinguish
myth-narratives from non-myth narratives. They all simply assume that myth is
clearly distinguishable from other narratives.
We hope we have successfully shown how:
1. A definition of myth cannot be based on truth valuation.
2. Myth cannot be identified in opposition to history in the text.
3. The possible interpretations of myth should have no relevance for the
construction of a definition of myth.
4. The first purpose of a definition of myth should be the easy and clear
identification of myth itself.
5. A definition of myth should start from the fact that myth materializes in
narrative, but is not the same as narrative.
6.2 Without a precise definition myth remains a useless concept
‘Myth’ is undoubtedly a rich word. As Righter puts it, myth:
(…) has become a kind of intellectual shorthand which has
gained acceptance as standing for an elusive, almost
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unanalyzable amalgam of beliefs, attitudes and feelings. The
very unapproachability of the content of myth has created
the utility of the term and guaranteed its widespread
usefulness. With no theoretical implications the term is taken
as given.” (Righter 9)
The problem is whether this richness does not translate to confusion for a
discipline with aversion to theory, like Philology. The normal utility or usefulness of
the concept seems to be, up to now, inversely proportional to its concrete theoretical
applicability. The lack of a precise definition transforms myth into a wild animal
when applied in analysis. We have struggled in this work to show this.
6.3 Philology should not use myth as a concept unless it has properly defined it
We are conscious of the limitations of our work: we would probably require a
much bigger number of examples to prove with absolute certainty what we have
proposed in these pages. Yet, as we affirmed at the beginning, our intention was
merely propaedeutic. We believe we have presented a first critical guide or a mode of
how to identify the problem of truth valuation in a clear an easy way.
That perhaps would be enough for now, for those who might find themselves
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interested in further testing our hypothesis. The question will remain open as to how it
fares against more examples. Yet we are confident that we have painted successfully
in the very least an approximate landscape.
One of the main questions that we have tried to raise in this work is whether it is
possible for a discipline like Buddhist studies to lack a stable definition of myth. How
can Philology use myth as a category of stratification or classification and analysis if
it does not identify clear boundaries in narratives?
The answer appears simple. Until there is no proper definition of myth, it is
better to remain away from the concept. The problem is then, that we cannot say
anything about all that narrative phenomena that we ‘believe’ correspond to myth. At
the same time the lack of a proper method of identification of myth seems to affect
adversely the stratification process of the suttas.
6.4 There may be nothing to call myth
If we, at the end of these pages, have left in the reader the impression that there
may not be anything to call myth after all, we would still have done our job well. We
believe that a fair amount of doubt must be faced and resolved before any further
discussion of what myth is. If myth is nothing, or if it is so diffuse an object that any
hope to effectively single it out should be abandoned, so be it.
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7. Abbreviations
AoC Anatomy of Criticism
ASu Aggañña sutta
DN Dhīganikāya
MNBP Mythical Narrative of The Buddhist Path
MPar Mahaparinibbāna Sutta
MSud Mahāsudassana Sutta
PCan Pāli Canon
SDM Standard Definition of Myth
TrV Truth Valuation
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